


He's Hurting Me

by APotatoeWithStandards



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Highschool AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-07-04 14:32:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 42,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15843252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/APotatoeWithStandards/pseuds/APotatoeWithStandards
Summary: Patton, Roman, Logan and Virgil have all been friends since high school, and though an unlikely group they’ve been with each other through everything. Now, they’re all adults, with jobs and responsibilities, but they’re still close. Though recently Patton’s been becoming more distant… the others suspect it's due to his new boyfriend.While Patton faces struggles of his own in the present, every other chapter jumps back to the past and explains the groups backstory, what they've overcome, together.Based very very loosely on the song He’s Hurting Me by Maria Mena





	1. Movie Night

**Author's Note:**

> Just a lil movie night with the bois and some exposition. Nothing bad in this chapter, just setting up.

Patton sat with his back leaning against the couch, one leg crossing over the other at the knee. He sighed deeply. He was so tired. He lightly pushed himself up, curling his legs up so he was sat cross-legged, and moved his glasses so he could rub his eyes with the heels of his hands. He pushed his hands to his head, running his fingers through his hair and glancing back up at the TV. It had been his turn to choose the movie this time, and he’d decided that after a long day at work, he wanted something light-hearted, so he’d chosen Tangled. Roman had been more than happy with his choice, immediately dashing over to his overwhelming collection of Disney films and finding it with ease.

Patton glanced behind him, looking onto the couch; Logan was to his left, sitting like a normal person, legs hanging over the edge of the couch, arm on the arm rest, even his posture remained impressive. Roman and Virgil… not so much. They were a mess of limbs, it was difficult to tell who was what, especially in the darkness of the room, but Patton was fairly sure Virgil was curled into Roman’s lap, the younger man’s legs pressing against Roman’s stomach. One of Roman’s arms was hooked around his boyfriend’s waist, the other was resting on his legs, occasionally moving in slow circles over Virgil’s knee. Patton noticed, as well, one of Virgil’s arms was draped across Roman’s shoulders, his hand resting in the other’s hair, ruffling it lightly. Both of them were intently focused on the movie, and Patton couldn’t help but smile gently. He was so proud, and happy for them, that they’d stayed together as long as they had, and that they still seemed as happy as they were at the start. Sure they fought, a lot, but it wasn’t normal people fighting, in fact, it wasn’t even fighting.

They were both polar opposites, Roman’s loud outgoing personality completely juxtaposing Virgil’s timid, introverted nature, they were destined to argue. And they did. Frequently. But it always felt like more of joke, they never seemed to be serious.

Patton was sure they must have had disputes, real disputes, where they questioned whether it was worth continuing, but they never let that side of them show. The worst argument he’d seen them have was over pineapple on pizza (“It doesn’t belong there Roman!”/”WHERE IS YOUR SENSE OF ADVENTURE VIGRIL?!”) But all couples fought, it was normal. It was always scary. It always left you feeling like a hurricane inside. But you always realise how much they mean to you in the end. Patton was sure that happened to them too. And they always seemed so loving, and caring, and…right together. It gave him, well, hope. In a sense. The amount of care, trust, and love in their relationship, was something he aspired to. His relationship wasn’t quite at that level yet, but it hadn’t been going on for nearly as long, so he couldn’t expect that.

Patton got lost in thought again, he thought about all the things Virgil and Roman had gone through, how much they had changed, and how much they hadn’t. It was the same for all four of them. They had grown so much, changed so much, adapted, in a way, but they were still here, together, in complete happiness, watching Disney films together. Even this, their movie night tradition hadn’t changed, even if they usually had to ditch the onesies. Patton was slightly downcast at that, but he understood; every Friday, everyone would come straight from work, round Roman’s (and Virgil’s) and they’d chat, mess around, and watch a film. It became difficult to always bring onesies, not to mention driving home in one was unacceptable for Logan, so he’d only bring his if he planned on sleeping round. It was funny, thinking of them being kids again, relaxing after school, dreaming of the future, wearing an assortment of onesies. Now that had been replaced with work clothes, it had been replaced with the future they were dreaming of. For Logan, that was a black shirt and a tie, as a teacher he had to look presentable. He’d always been inquisitive and had a longing for knowledge, it only seemed reasonable to pass this knowledge on. Roman wore a white shirt, his favourite jacket thrown over the top, and black jeans; despite working at the same school as Logan, Roman had assured him several times; “Drama teachers don’t need to look smart, our job is fantasy, what good is a tie there?” Roman had always been into theatre and actually gotten pretty far, being in several shows, but now his main priority was teaching. He really loved working with younger, enthusiastic kids and giving them a place to truly express themselves. Virgil wore pretty much his normal outfit, black shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, and had obviously put on his favourite hoody as soon as possible. Virgil worked at a small antique store, it was quiet and the atmosphere was calm. The owner had taken a liking to him and made working there even better, it was funny but Virgil really did love his job. He didn’t want the pressure of teaching, or running his own company, and sure as hell didn’t believe in himself to put his work out there, but running a quaint old shop with sweetest elderly woman he’d ever met was incredibly appealing to him.

Patton looked down at himself; pale blue polo with a cardigan wrapped round his shoulders… he didn’t exactly have a dress code. He owned a coffee shop, and ran it with his brother, Thomas. It was doing strangely well, Patton had thought, and he really loved it. He and his brother had designed everything, it was something they could call theirs, and it was perfect. They’d filled it with plants, fairy lights, board games and rainbow pillows and blankets. The walls were covered in short motivational quotes, such as “Stay strong,” and “Keep going,” in beautiful cursive font and a faded watercolour background (courtesy of Roman.) It was small, friendly, if a bit cheesy, but people seemed to love it. Though no one more than Patton.

Patton sighed to himself again, feeling sentimental. His life was good now, it was better than good, great even. He ran a pretty successful business with someone he knew he could trust entirely, he had amazing friends who he’d been through so much with, he had a lovely house, and he had his loving boyfriend. Yet he felt in himself a longing deep in his heart, pulling him back to his high school years, forcing him to remember how all of this started. High school wasn’t the easiest time, yet for some reason remembering it felt so easy, it was comfortable thinking back on the nights they’d spent on group projects, times they’d gone to support Roman on his numerous shows, times he’d just sat and talked to Virgil for hours, times he and Logan would go for walks in complete ease. That felt so far away now, so far gone, he hadn’t been able to hang out with any of them individually for so long, he’d always have to cancel last minute if they offered. It was sad, Patton was sure their friendship would always be such a massive part in his life, but recently it felt like he was slipping away, fading out like a half forgotten memory or an old photograph. Even movie nights he usually had to leave early. He had to leave early.

Panic began surging through his chest, eyes going wide. What was the time?

He jumped out of skin when he heard his phone buzz, he immediately slammed his hand on it, frantically grasping at the sides and bringing it up to his face. A message brightly illuminated his screen, he should have been home ten minutes ago, his boyfriend’s name was displayed above his message:

Mike:

You’re late.

Patton’s heart seemed to stop, how could he have been so stupid? He knew Miked hate it when he was late, still he did this. He’s probably so hurt, and worried, and upset. Patton felt the guilt and panic rot his insides, and a sickening feeling crawled up his throat. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Guilt. That’s what this feeling is. Guilt.

Patton shot up, startling the others, pausing only a second to type out a reply, then immediately began frantically dashing about the room, grabbing his stuff and uttering apologies as he went.

“Guys I am so so sorry, but I’m late and- Oh God, I have to get going, I’m sorry again g-“

“Woah, woah, hold up.” Virgil stated, confusion eating his words. “It’s only,” He paused to quickly check his phone. “Patton it’s 7:40, you have to be back at 8, chill.”

“No, no no no no, Mi-We decided to change it, I’m meant to be home by 7:30, and you know how he gets about time.” The eldest rushed out.

“What? 7:30?! That’s barely anytime at all! We haven’t even had our deep chats yet! The film isn’t even finished yet!” Roman gestured dramatically towards the TV.

“Indeed. Patton, I understand you want to get home, but surely you can explain to Mike you want to finish the movie. That is what movie night is for. You aren’t a child anymore.” Logan interjected, but Patton was already shaking his head.

“I’m sorry guys, I really am, I’ll try and stay longer next week. Promise.” Patton called, already heading out the door.

“Patton! Wait!” Logan called, standing and following him to the door.

“I’ll see you Lo! See you guys!” The door shut, the cheery tone carrying the words felt somewhat hollow. Logan sighed heavily, letting his shoulders slump forward as he walked back.

Virgil was standing by now, and Roman sat bolt upright, almost lifting out of his seat. The tallest shook his head as he re-entered, running a hand through his hair, then straightening his tie.

“I’m really… worried about him. He’s spending less time with us, barely answers his phone, seems constantly on edge. He’s isolating himself, removing himself from his own life.” Logan sighed, falling back onto the couch.

“It’s not him though, is it?” Virgil growled, Roman saw the anger building up in his boyfriend, it was flashing in his hazel eyes. Roman gently wrapped an arm around Virgil’s waist, pulling him back into his lap, lightly rubbing circles on his arm to calm him.

“That is, a fair assumption.” Logan continued. “But he doesn’t see what’s happening, he doesn’t understand the level of control that parasite has on him.” His voice was almost a whisper, but it cut sharp, causing Roman to lift his eyebrows.

“How… What can we do?” Roman questioned. “He won’t listen to us, even if we tell him the truth. You know he won’t. He’s always been a romantic, any issue, he’s convinced he can conquer it. He’s convinced love will conquer it.”

There was silence as the three of them thought. Patton had pulled them all together. Created an environment they were all comfortable. Given them all a family of sorts. He’s practically rescued them; he’d cared for them when no one else had. He’d always been there for him…and now they can’t be there for him.


	2. The loser, the geek, or whatever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan is a loner, a nerd, whatever. He doesn’t care. What he does care about are the bullies that won’t seem to leave him alone…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT WARNINGS: Bullying, violence, swearing. Don't read if you're sensitive, please take care.  
> But hey, it's our first flashback!

Logan breathed in sharply as his back hit the cold metal surface behind him, emitting a soft hissing sound. An arm was pushing down on his throat, cutting off his airways as the owner gradually leaned heavier on it. He began desperately gasping for breath, clawing at the arm, urgently trying to push it away. The owner of the arm laughed, prompting those around him to laugh as well, while Logan struggled to breathe.

The group around him jeered. “What’s wrong nerd? I can’t hear you.” James, the owner of the arm, snarled between barks of laughter. “Sorry dipshit, you’re gonna have to speak up.” A roar of laughter followed from the crowd as Logan let out strangled pleas for help.

Logan had dealt with bullying most of his life, he could deal with the name calling, the hostility, he could always remain calm and logical throughout. Not this time. This time, airways were closing. His lungs were being starved of air. Everything in him burned with the need to breathe. He felt tear begin to prick the sides of his eyes as the force on his throat got heavier and heavier. He squeezed his eyes shut, for once all logic leaving him and being replaced with icy fear.

Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. Need to breathe. Can’t breathe.

He struggled desperately, thrashing, pushing, scratching, but nothing helped. Why were they doing this? The weight of his attacker pushed him roughly against the locker behind him, trapping him in both directions. This wasn’t fair. When were they going to stop. He felt his limbs grow weaker, as he silently contemplated whether continuing to struggle was worth it.

“Hey!” A voice spoke up, he wasn’t sure how long it had been, probably not that long as they would have gotten bored but it had felt like a small eternity. “Leave him alone!” The voice spoke again, it was strong and firm, but also… soft, not timid, but the tone hinted they didn’t speak up often.

James, distracted by the voice, let his force falter for a second, it didn’t take Logan long to utilise this. He tore away from James, pushing the broader boy of himself, and striding towards the source of the voice, coughing, spluttering and gasping. He wasn’t entirely sure what made him collapse, but he ended up on the floor, panting and wheezing into his hand. A figure stepped besides him, then kneeled next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Logan whipped his head round to see the figure; they wore similar glasses to him and a concerned expression etched onto their features. Their hair had been dyed purple, though it was slightly faded and pale, and their hair seemed the tiniest bit curly and unkempt. Logan vaguely recognised him, a boy in one or two of his classes, but he couldn’t recall the name.

“Are you okay?” His words were kind and caring, Logan was somewhat stunned by the strangers gentle tone, so much so he couldn’t form words, so he just nodded.

The stranger’s eyes seemed to turn, but not to anger, it was something more protective. He stood, stepping in front of Logan slightly as the gang of people approached the pair.

“Who the fuck are you?” James’ words were sharp and hostile, making Logan subconsciously recoil.

“Why should it matter who I am?”

James… didn’t have a response to that. The group seemed to look amongst each other for a second, before a girl with long brown hair spoke up.

“Why’d you care so much? What is he, your boyfriend?” The group seemed to find that funny, though Logan suspected they were just forcing a laugh to intimidate the boy in front of him.

“No, he is a person. And he doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you treat him.” The stranger stated with a matter of finality. He didn’t wait for a response before turning around and helping Logan to his feet. The stranger took his wrist and pulled him away from the gathering crowd of people.

“This isn’t over!” Someone called after them, but the stranger simply turned a corner into an empty classroom.

As soon as the door was shut, the stranger let out a breath of relief. “Sorry, I really hate confrontation, but I couldn’t just let them keep doing that to you! It was horrible.”

“It’s quite alright, um…”

“Patton.”

“…Patton. I, greatly appreciate your help. It’s usually never that bad, I will admit I was unprepared for, well, that.” Logan gestured towards the door with one hand, while the other gently made its way to his throat, trying to assess the damage. He winced slightly, but didn’t move his hand, Patton noticed this.

“Your necks pretty bruised, do you wanna go see the nurse?” He offered helpfully.

“I don’t think it matters much, it’s just bruises, they can’t do much about it.”

“Still, maybe we should tell a teacher, that group need to get what’s coming to them.”

Logan laughed, with no humour. “Trust me, bruises are the least of the school’s concerns. I’ve been getting them the majority of my time here, they didn’t care then, they don’t care now.”

“What? Why? Surely if it’s consistent they understand that they need to do something.” Patton questioned.

“To an extent that is true, they all know they need to do something, they all hate James. But they never have any proof, it’s one student’s word against another student.” His voicd was calm and collected, as if discussing the weather.

“But your bruises-“

“-bruises mean nothing unless a trusted figure of authority sees how I got them. For all they know I could be making this up.” Logan interrupted.

“Why would you be making it up if it’s been going on for so long, though?” Patton sounded almost heartbroken, like his trust had been completely destroyed.

“Because I don’t like James. That’s the response Mr Byrne has given each time. That I am just trying to slander his son. I’ve stopped trying.”

“So he’s essentially Draco Malfoy?” Patton concluded.

“Indeed, he is.” Logan couldn’t help the corners of his lips tugging into a half smile.

“Ahh I see that smile, Harry Potter fan?” Patton now had a giant grin on his face, it was almost infectious, Logan could feel his own smirk splitting into a bright smile.

“I suppose I am.”

“What house?” Patton asked enthusiastically.

“Ravenclaw. You?”

“Hufflepuff.” He beamed. “It’s funny, I know your house before I know your name.” He laughed gently.

“Oh yes, of course, sorry.” Logan babbled for a moment, but still couldn’t wipe away the smile that graced his lips. “Logan. My name’s Logan.”

“It’s great to meet ya’ Logan.” Patton’s cheeriness somehow seemed entirely genuine, and sweet, hearing him say his name caused an unfamiliar warmth to spread through Logan’s body.

“Likewise, Patton.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading!


	3. Until I Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton comes home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT WARNINGS: Swearing/explicit language, abusive relationship; verbal, emotional and sexual abuse (It’s not explicit it just implies, I guess, still is very much present)

Patton’s heart was beating frantically as he pulled into his own driveway. He leapt from the car, a torrent of emotions waging in his stomach. He hurried to open the door, scrambling with the lock slightly.

“Baby, oh God, I am so so sorry-“ Patton began rambling as soon as he saw his boyfriend, sat at their dining table, with two cold meals in front of him. He didn’t look at Patton, just at the floor, rage and hurt swimming in his eyes. “-I completely lost track of time, I’m just not used to the new timings yet is all. I hadn’t realised how late it was, the film hadn’t finished you see-“

“Patton.” Mike’s words were a short, sharp, bark. It was a command. He stopped glaring a hole through the carpet and let his eyes’ meet Patton’s. His motions were controlled, yet there was a fierceness behind them, as he stood suddenly, pointing at the food. “I waited for you. I cooked you a meal. I let you see your friends. I don’t care that you want to spend time with them. And this is how you respond to me?”

“Baby no-“

“-I just wanted, some extra time with you. Why is that too much to ask, Patton? Why? Answer me!” He ordered.

“It’s not, it’s not, you’re right, I ju-“

“You just what? Would rather spend time with them than me? Is that it?” He interrupted again.

“Of course no-“ Patton tried again to calm the situation, to bring order, like he normally does.

“You’re cheating on me. That’s it, isn’t it? You useless slag, that’s what you are.”

“Oh Mike… Please, calm down, I’m no-“

“CALM DOWN?! HOW DARE YOU TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!” Mike yelled, his voice shaking with anger.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Patton’s voice was a complete contrast, it was sweet, sympathetic, with a dash of sadness. 

“FILTHY WHORE.”

“Please Mike, please, I-I promise you nothing happened, I’d never do that to you. Please believe me.” Patton’s heart slammed against his chest, he could feel tears prick the back of his eyes, he hated it when Mike got like this. His accusations would come out of nowhere, and the flurry of insults wouldn’t stop, Patton knew he didn’t mean it, so why did they still sting?

He didn’t even have to look into the kitchen to know he’d been drinking, he always got like this when he had been drinking. He could smell it, see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. That’s why Patton knew he didn’t mean it, knew he shouldn’t listen to the words and just focuses on helping him, it was only the alcohol.

Patton was convinced these conclusions Mike jumped to, his massive mood swings, and his unparalleled paranoia, were to do with some sort of mental disorder, perhaps an anxiety related persecution complex? Or anger-management issues? Or a many number of things, however, whenever Patton brought it up with Mike it could go one of two ways; one way, Mike would go quiet, he’d nod slightly and let himself curl into Patton’s side, he’d say he was scared of getting diagnosed with something, because what if they couldn’t help, what if there was something wrong, what if it was nothing, what if, what if. It was a never ending stream of what if. It proved to Patton he needed help, but he couldn’t force it, all he could do was be there and support him, and that’s what he planned on doing. The other way it could go, was a way akin to this, a lot of shouting.

“Why should I believe you?” The anger still dripped from each syllable, but the voice sounded hurt, like it was on the verge of breaking.

“Because…” Patton begun, moving closer to the taller man before him. Mike’s soft, black hair, was pushed over the side of his head. His hair was long enough that he could sometimes pull it back into a small bun, exposing the shaved sides of his head. Mike was taller than Patton, with broad shoulders, he wasn’t overly muscular, but he was fairly toned. His eyes were a bright, beautiful blue, but right now they were darkened by a feeling of betrayal, a feeling Patton would do his best to dispel. “… I love you Mike, I really do. I would never do anything that would hurt you like that. Ever.” The words were sweet and caring, and Patton tried his best to put his heart into every letter. He smiled gently, reassuringly. He did everything, and he did it right. So why did that disgusting guilty feeling eat away at his insides.

Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter, Patton’s words failed. Mike huffed slightly, pushing Patton roughly to the side as he stepped past him. “Whatever. Fuck off.” He growled, moving towards the front door.

“Wha-Mike, where are you goining?” Silence. “Y-you can’t leave.” Silence. “Please, Mike you can’t drive like this.” Patton reached forward to grab his wrist, and something snapped.

Before he could even react, Patton felt himself being slammed into a wall, he wincing as the force shot through his bones, it wasn’t painful, but it shocked him.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?! CAN’T DRIVE LIKE THIS?! WHAT ARE YOU IMPLYING?! HUH?!” Mike yelled ferociously, leaving the smaller just to whimper, fear coursing through his veins.

“P-please…” Was all he could manage, he could feel his body shaking, he could feel as he began to lose control. Could feel himself shattering.

“You annoying little shit. Just fuck off, alright?” Mike released his grip on the shaking wreck of a man, letting him fall to the floor. Patton stared up a him with terrified eyes, as if waiting something more. He looked so weak, and pathetic, and a whirlwind of emotions began to build. The anger and betrayal at Patton, the guilt for making him so scared, the pleasure for seeing how he looked right now, the pain of too many emotions, it was all too much. He had to get it out, had to do something, had to hit something, had to break something, had to destroy something. He turned back to Patton, still looking terrified and vulnerable, an almost sick pride pulling at his heart, Mike balled his hands into fists, dramatically spinning around, catching sight of an old vase.

It was done in a split second. Crash. The shattered pieces exploded out onto the floor. That was his mothers, that was all he had of her, he’d given it to Patton because he knew it was what she would’ve wanted. He didn’t care. He had to break it. Had to destroy something. It was enough, but then it wasn’t, his anger was still boiling over, he still had so many words left unsaid, he still needed another drink. He let himself walk towards the door.

So many things tugged at his mind, so many things to say, so many “I’m sorry”s, so many “don’t worry”s, but instead he just slammed the door harshly. Disappearing into the darkening night, walking in any direction that was away from Patton.

Patton could barely move, he felt some tension seep out of his body, out the door with Mike, but not all of it. Not enough of it. He suddenly realised he wasn’t breathing. He tried to breath. He was breathing too quickly. Everything was too fast. Too slow. Too loud. Too quiet. Everything was silent. The nothing was deafening.

Calm down Patton, you know this, you know this, think about what you’d say to Virgil. Think about what you’d say to Virgil.

Okay, breathe in for four seconds. One, two, three four.

Good, alright, hold it for seven. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

Perfect, now out for eight. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

Well done, you’re doing great, just repeat that.

Patton managed to talk himself down, glad to have experience in dealing with these types of things. He stayed there for a moment, on the floor, surveying the rubble. The cold food, the empty house, the broken vase.

Patton forced himself up, willing himself to the window. He sighed deeply, and relief washed over him as he saw the car was still there. Mike hadn’t driven. That was good. He felt a little spark of pride, that he had been reasonable enough to walk out his anger. Next he moved over to the vase, sadness pulling at his heat, knowing how much that meant to Mike. He sighed again, getting out a dust pan and brush and sweeping the remains into it.

Just as Patton was about to stand back up again, he heard the door swing open. Mike was back; that was either a very short amount of time, or Patton was on the floor longer than he thought. Either way, he didn’t care, he placed down the dustpan and brush on the table and ran to meet his boyfriend.

“Patton, I’m, er I-“ Patton cut him off with a hug.

“I know you are. It’s okay, don’t worry.” Mike melted into the hug, smiling into Patton’s shoulder at his kind and understanding nature. There was still that nagging feeling in the back of his mind though, the feeling that maybe it was all an act. Maye Patton was unfaithful. He felt the sudden urge to prove that Patton was his, that he owned him.

“So, wanna kiss and make up?”

Patton giggled lightly. “Of course.” He smiled before lightly pecking the other’s lips, sweetly. Mike wasn’t satisfied with that, Patton had to know who he belonged to. And he couldn’t get the image of him earlier out of his head.

Mike grabbed Patton’s waist, pulling him closer, trying to deepen the kiss. Patton struggled under his grip immediately, searching for a way out. He managed to pull away.

“Um, I’m sorry baby, not tonight. I’m kinda exhausted.” He tried weakly, but Mike stepped forward again, grabbing the smaller’s hands and tugging them, guiding the other to follow him.

“Come on darling, that’s not how this works.” He tried to smile innocently.

Patton froze for a second, he really didn’t want to, but he didn’t want to upset Mike. And he loved Mike. It wouldn’t be that bad, he’d be fine, he just wanted his boyfriend to be okay.

He didn’t say anything, but he let himself be dragged to his bedroom, mind already beginning to wonder if this was the right decision. If any of this was the right decision. He wanted so desperately to help him, but was this helping himself?

Of course it was…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know Mike goes from 1-100 real quick, like Pat’s ten minutes late must mean he’s cheating… I know that his thought process can sound a little far fetched but, actually, it’s not. Of course Mike is entirely a fictional and original character, however a lot of inspiration for his mood swings and persecution complex are based around a person in my life. Obviously no where near this extent, but how quick he is to change and jump to conclusions, even how quick to turn to anger, is inspired from someone real. I don’t know why I felt the need to say this. I guess it was to emphasise how personnel Patton’s story is to me. Anyway, thanks for reading


	4. Princes Don't Become Kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman's late for class

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Panic attacks, homophobia/homophobic language, swearing/explicit language and bullying
> 
> Also I have been reminded that I forgot so here's the link to tumblr : https://imightbeapotatobutihavestandards.tumblr.com/post/175316370599/hes-hurting-me

Roman sprinted through the bleak hallways, skidding slightly as he turned a corner. He hesitated as the door to his classroom emerged into view, breathing deeply to calm his frantic heartbeat.

Cautiously, his hand fell on the handle, the cold mental searing his skin, every sensation put him on edge. He looked down at his clothes, anxiety rising in the anticipation for the words that would be thrown at him.

He took a deep breath, reminded himself of what his father said, and pushed through.

“Sorry, rehearsals overran.” He glanced at the teacher with a sheepish smile.

The whole class fell silent, save a few sniggers that emerged at the back.

The teacher sighed in frustration before turning to look at Roman. “It’s fine…” Her tight lips tugged up into the smallest, fragment of a smirk. “…Just take a seat, Mr Prince.”

Yes, hilarious, Roman got it. He got the joke. His last name was Prince. He just so happened to be playing a prince in the play. He was wearing a prince costume because he didn’t have time to change. He had come to class looking like an idiot. Sure, it was comedic, could everyone get over it now.

Roman scurried to his desk, hastily pulling out his equipment, trying to focus on the teacher and not the looks he was getting.

“Loving the new look, Prince Fag.” James sneered behind him, causing Roman to roll his eyes at the less-than-creative nickname.

“What was the hold up? Sucking dick before class again, queer?” It really was pathetic how they tried to use his sexuality against him. Roman was proud of who he was, and often found humorous what they deemed hurtful.

That wasn’t what hurt Roman.

“Dude, you think anyone would go near him? Queer or not, he’s still a disgusting little loser, literally no one cares about him.” Louis voice this time.

“It’s not even a joke at this point, he’s just straight up annoying as shit.”

Breathe Roman, breathe. Remember what dad said. Stop listening to them and focus.

“Geez, his parents are gonna see him in that, they’re gonna see how much of a mistake he is.” Ouch.

“Pfft, like they don’t already know, he’s pretty much a constant disappointment. If I had a child like him, I’d fully kill myself.”

“Dude, I doubt they’d even go watch his fucking play, they probably don’t want anyone to know that’s their son.”

Roman’s eyes leapt around the room, scanning for help. No one was watching. No one was listening. No one cared.

“Can you blame them though.”

The teacher wasn’t looking. She didn’t care. No one cared.

“I honestly feel bad they have to deal with him.”

His eyes jumped to the door. No one cares.

“Imagine waiting 9 months to have a baby, and it being that annoying faggot.”

In a flash, Roman stood, sending his chair flying backwards with a loud screeching. He immediately sped out the classroom, desperately trying to stop his tears.

No one cares. No one cares. No one cares.

Roman was sprinting down the halls again. He needed an escape. Needed to be alone. Where though? He turned a corner, spotting the toilets. He was heading towards them before he’d even processed the thought. When he entered, his mind vaguely registered another figure standing by the sink, but he didn’t care. He sped into a cubicle, slamming the door shut, sliding the lock across. Then collapsing to the floor in tears. He didn’t care how loud his sobs were. He felt everything. Every word. He knew he shouldn’t listen. He tried to remember what his father said. His voice echoing in the back of his mind.

/Stop crying and man up. You need to stop being so sensitive./

It repeated, getting louder, and louder, until it was screaming in his ears. He tried to shut it out now, covering them with his hands, shaking his head, but nothing helped.

/Stop crying and man up. You need to stop being so sensitive./

“Geez, his parents are gonna see him in that, they’re gonna see how much of a mistake he is.”

/Stop being such a fuckin’ girl Roman, it’s disgusting. You’re a man, act like one./

“Pfft, like they don’t already know, he’s pretty much a constant disappointment. If I had a child like him, I’d fully kill myself.”

/After everything I’ve done for you, you disrespect me, and our family name./

“Dude, I doubt they’d even go watch his fucking play, they probably don’t want anyone to know that’s their son.”

/You’re no son of mine, performing in these stupid shows, do you think I want to see you make a fool out of my name?/

Roman wasn’t sure if he was screaming now, but his throat was raw, and his eyes burned, and his hands shook. Everything he’d said was too fresh, too recent, it had triggered something in him. He could hear his thoughts swimming through his head. He could see the echoes of their voices. He pulled desperately at his hair to bring himself back to reality. He wheezed to try and find air, but he let out another strangled sob instead. Hot tears seeped into his mouth and he began choking on them. Now he couldn’t stop coughing. His body was aching, his tears getting heavier, and his breathing was getting shallower, when he heard something. It sounded so distant, so far away.

“Please breathe for me.” The voice had an alien kindness to it, a warmth Roman hadn’t heard in a while. Everything seemed to pause for a second, and somehow he found the strength to comply.

He gulped in an audible breath of air, but it didn’t do much, his steady stream of sobs continuing almost immediately.

“Good, that was good. Now I need you to do that again, only breathe in for four seconds…”

…

Roman was sure it was an eternity before he stopped crying, but, thanks to the unknown voice behind the door, he eventually calmed down, only hiccupping and sniffling slightly.

“Hey, that better?” Roman could hear the soft, reassuring smile through the words. He nodded, then realised the boy on the other side couldn’t see.

“Y-yeah. Thanks…”

“No problem, kiddo. Say, do you mind me asking, what’s your name.” The unknown voice asked.

Roman sighed deeply, he’d no longer be anonymous. This person would see him around school, and forever recognise him as that kid having a panic attack that one time. But somehow, Roman didn’t care. Anyone kind enough to sit and help him, was probably kind enough not to judge him. Taking another breath, he made up his mind.

Patton jerked to his feet as he heard the door slide open, revealing the boy he’d been talking to. A boy with brown hair swept elegantly to the side stood in front of him. He wore a prince costume; a bright white shirt, embellished with golden buttons, and intricate emblems, even a dazzlingly coloured red sash. His royal attire was juxtaposed by his puffy red cheeks and bloodshot eyes, tears staining his face and clumping his eyelashes together.

“M-my name is, Roman.” He let out a shaky breath, as he tried desperately to steady his voice, and appear stronger. “Roman Prince.”

“Patton Sanders.” Patton returned, smiling brightly, almost as if it was contagious, a small smile graced Roman’s lips as he extended a slightly shaking hand. Patton took it immediately, happy to be of support.

“So um, stop me if I’m pushing things but, um, that seemed like a pretty bad anxiety attack. Do you wanna talk about what caused it maybe?”

Roman seemed to ponder this for a moment, tapping his fingers rapidly against the back of his hand.

“No pressure if you don’t, I know we’ve only just met so it might be intimidating, but it’s always best to talk someone, so maybe there’s someone you can tell or-“

“-That’s just the thing…” Roman mumbled, looking down. “…I have no one to tell…”

Patton smiled, a sad but empathetic smile. “Then I’m all ears.”

And that’s how Roman and Patton ended up sat in the school toilets together, just talking, until well past school was over. Roman greatly appreciated finally having someone there who listened, and cared about him, especially someone as kind-hearted as Patton. He could have easily left him there to have a breakdown, gone back to class instead, back to his own life, but he didn’t. He stayed to help a random crying person in a bathroom. But to Patton, there was no hesitation in his actions, he couldn’t just leave someone like that, so he had texted Logan, explaining the situation and how he probably wasn’t going back to class. He had also messaged his brother, later, just so he’d know he’d be home late. Patton had good reason, his new friend needed him.

Roman decided to leave out some parts of his story, Patton didn’t need to know them. But he spoke of the production, the bullies, his sexuality, and how his parents couldn’t see him perform in the show. He spoke about how scared he was of being a disappointment, and how deep those words had cut. Though he left out how he knew, with 100% certainty, they were correct. Patton had sat and listened, and more importantly cared. He’d even shared his own encounter with James and his little gang.

“Listen Roman, I know I haven’t known you for long, but you’re not a disappointment. You got the lead role in the play, that proves you’re talented and dedicated. And, you’re unafraid and unashamed to be who you are, that’s amazing! I’m sure your parents see that, and if they don’t then they don’t deserve you.” Patton concluded with a nod and an air of finality, causing Roman to chuckle slightly. “And, it really does suck they can’t come see you, in the production, and I know it doesn’t compare but I’d love to see your performance!” He beamed.

“R-really? You would?” Roman was shocked, why would anyone care enough for that? Who would want to put themselves through that? Apparently, Patton.

“Of course! I can bring Logan as well! We can both come and support you!”

“That would be… that would be amazing Patton. I would truly appreciate that.” Roman replied sincerely, a genuine smile pulling at his lips.

“Well it’s settled then!” He shone brightly. “Do you wanna start making our way home Roman? Not that I don’t love talking to you, but I’m not really fond of these places at the best of times.” They both laughed gently.

“Yeah, yeah sure. Oh, I need to get my bag from my class. You get going Patton, I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“Well alright kiddo, but one thing before you go.” Patton grabbed the others hand, then pulled a pen from his pocket and began scribbling something down. “My number.” He grinned as he finished. “Message me when you get home.” He started walking out.

“I will, oh and Patton…” Roman called out, causing Patton to stop in his tracks and turn back. “…Thank you, for everything. Really, thank you, so much.”

"Anytime Roman."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this weird update schedule thing, I just got back to school and they want us to "hit the ground running" and have already set three essays so :/


	5. We Need To Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton wakes up and finds a message from Logan that puts his anxiety on edge  
> Warnings: Hints at abuse, discussion of abuse.

Patton awoke groggily, opening his eye to a dark, messy room. His mind automatically jumped to last night, and he felt heart his sink. Everything suddenly became heavier, getting up seemed harder, inside his chest a sick feeling began spreading, seeping throughout his body. He forced himself to take breath, the feeling of temporary relief warming his heart, but it made his panic more evident. He breathed again, pushing himself up.

He reached out and grabbed his round, gold-framed glasses from their place on the bedside table, carefully putting them on. The darkness became focused, sharper, but it was still darkness, and it still felt like it was swallowing him. Desperate for a distraction, Patton retrieved his phone, allowing himself to bathe in the cold light. He felt almost numb as he processed the time; 1 o’clock. He had meant to get up early, he had so much stuff to do, how had he slept that long?

Patton also noticed the barrage of notifications, the earliest being from Roman at some ungodly hour in the morning.

Princey : Good morning!

Princey : You left pretty early yesterday

Princey : Which is cool

Princey : But we barely got a chance to chat, and I have sooo much to tell you

Princey : Fancy a coffee, my treat?

Despite the disgusting feeling pulling at his insides, Patton couldn’t help the slightest smile that formed on his lips. Roman was not capable of saying all he wanted in a single message, instead he sent fragmented sentences of conversation, but Patton found it endearing. The smile was replaced with a frown as he began tapping out an apologetic excuse.

The feeling of guilt that tugged on his heart only worsened after replying to Roman. He really did miss their chats, and felt awful Roman couldn’t tell him what he wanted, but he knew Mike would be upset, and he really did need to do stuff with what remained of the day.

Another message had been sent at a far too early time, though still slightly later than Roman’s. It was Virgil, who, assumedly, had been forced up by his boyfriend.

My Dark Strange Son : Hey Patton, you seemed kinda stressed yesterday, I hope you’re alright bud. I’m always here if you need.

Patton’s frown deepened. He knew Virgil, and the others, were there for him. But they didn’t need to be. He didn’t have a right to complain about anything to them. Others had it far worse than him. They had had it far worse than him. It felt wrong to even consider talking to them. What would he even talk about? He was fine. Still, he was moved by Virgil’s offer, and assured him he understood but was okay.

The last message was at a far more reasonable time.

Lo : Patton, we need to talk.

Patton’s heart sunk even further. What was that about? Was there a problem? Was Logan okay? Oh God, what if Logan was in trouble? What if he was ill or something? Worry consumed him, as he typed out his reply, Logan had to be okay. He wasn’t sure what he’d do without Logan.

Me: About what?

Patton felt his nerves grow as he waited for a reply, so he slung his legs over the edge of the bed and forced himself up, despite feeling like a metaphorical dumpster fire. He pulled on a pair of light, plaid, pyjama pants and a soft, pale shirt. As he went to walk out, he heard Mike let out a soft murmur, as he moved slightly in his sleep. Patton stared at him; his hair a mess, his face peaceful, his body wrapped in the blanket. It was adorable. Patton wanted to smile at the sight. But it felt too difficult. Everything felt to difficult. Nothing felt, well, okay.

But still Patton pushed through.

He made his way out to the kitchen, routinely grabbing a glass and a mug, putting the kettle on, grabbing some milk and some orange juice, etc. As usual, he poured himself some juice and set about making Mike his coffee (medium strength with two sugars.) But he didn’t feel like his normal cheerful self, he didn’t hum like usual, or dance to nothing like usual, instead his movements were sluggish and half-hearted. His mind seemed detached, like it was trapped somewhere else. He felt the constant need to cry, it was almost overpowering. But still he pushed through, only letting a few stray, forgotten tears fall.

“Good morning, pet.” Mike’s voice startled him out of his trance, as strong arms wrapped around his waist and he felt a weight on his shoulder.

“Good morning.” Patton hummed, trying to sound as happy as usual.

“Aren’t you an angel.” Mike smiled as Patton finished making his coffee. He removed his arms and took the coffee gratefully. “I’m going back to bed, wanna watch The Office and cuddle?”

Patton turned to him, his spirits lifting slightly as he nodded. “I’ll make us some pancakes, be with you soon!” Patton shone artificially.

Mike chuckled. “Sounds good, darling.” He lightly kissed his boyfriends cheek, and disappeared back into their room.

Patton sighed, again, as he gathered the ingredients he needed and tried to ignore the feeling in the pit of his being, the burning, wrenching, feeling. Just as he s mixing the batter, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, harshly pulling him back to reality. He checked the caller ID before bringing the phone to his ear.

“Hey Logan, what’s up?” Patton forced out, as chirpily as he possibly could.

“Patton, we need a serious conversation, are you free?” Logan’s voice was strong and unflinching, Patton could feel his heart plummet.

“Um, actually I was just getting ready to spend the day with Mike…”

“Please Patton.” There was a desperation in Logan’s voice that terrified him, his head rushed with all the reasons for this.

“I can tell, please just-I can talk now, like, on the phone.” There was a pause. “Please Logan, tell me what’s wrong. I’m worried.” Patton begged, all he wanted was to help his friend, he just had to find out how.

Logan let out a long intake of breath, he was incredibly reluctant to talk over the phone, but also, he couldn’t stop himself. The thought had be burning at the front of his mind for so long that in that moment, he completely lost his logically self-control. As he spoke, Patton turned to see Mike staring at him from the doorway, an inquisitive and questioning look plastered on his features.

“I’m… I’m worried your relationship with Mike is… is abusive.”

Patton’s face fell, his heart stopped, cold and icy dread ran through him, splintering his bones.

“… Hold on…” Patton held up a finger to Mike, signalling he’d be one moment, and mouthed “It’s important,” at him.

Patton hurried to their front door, he left it on latch as he walked out onto their driveway, pacing back and forth nervously, the gravel crunched softly beneath his feet.

“Logan…What?” Memories of last night appeared fresh in his mind. The insults. The yelling. The bit afterwards. But that wasn’t abuse, Patton was okay with all of it. He was fine, he forgave him, he understood.

“You’re relationship…Mike’s barely letting you see any of us, he’s always involved in all your decisions, he controls your every move. You’re becoming more isolated. More distant. These are telling signs of abuse…”

Dead silence.

“I…I just want you to be okay… And I’m sorry, but I don’t think you are.” Logan’s voice was soft, almost remorseful, everything he said was laced with hurt.

“But he’s never hit me or anythi-“

“-There is far more types of abuse than just physical. All are equally as traumatic and as detrimental to your health.” He stated matter-of-factly.

“I mean, sure, we fight, and he can sometimes get mad at me, but I still love him. That’s not abusive.” For a moment, Patton wasn’t sure if he was talking to Logan or himself.

There was a deep sigh as Logan tried to work out how to kindly convey his thoughts. “Think of Roman and Virgil, they’re practically the architype of a healthy, loving relationship. Do they control each other the way Mike controls you?”

“Well no, but they’re different people. You can’t compare my relationship to theirs. It’s different.”

There was another deep sigh, Logan was clearly having trouble dealing with emotions and trying to convince Patton something was wrong.

“…I really care about you Patton…”

“Aww Lo, I know you do.”

“Then please, please listen to me. You must know, deep down, something is wrong. And I know… you…you love him, but sometimes a relationship just isn’t beneficial to a person’s life, or health, even despite their love.”

“I know. I know to a certain point you are right. I am seeing you guys less, and that’s not nice. But I promise you I’m okay. And I’ll prove it by making my own decision right now, wanna grab a coffee tomorrow?”

“…Are you sure?”

“Of course, it’s been a while since it’s been just us. Hey, maybe we can go for a walk afterwards as well. Though saying this, I’ll have to arrange meeting with Roman at some point too.” Patton rambled on, a small smile creeping onto his face at the thought of properly hanging with his friends again. 

“I’d like that very much. Shall we say 12, at the little café near the school?”

“Sounds great, I’ll see you then!”

“Patton…”

“Yeah?”

“…Take care, okay?”

“Of course, you too.” With that he hung up. Immediately he began tapping out a message to Roman, asking to meet on Tuesday at his shop.

As he turned back, chest slightly lighter, he stopped dead in his tracks. A menacing figure blocked the doorway, fire burnt within its eyes, everything about it was intimidating.

“Mike… How long h-“

“Inside. Now.” He snarled, his voice clipped and threatening. He turned, and Patton followed.


	6. Breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton meets up with Virgil in a park  
> Warnings: Mentions of death, probably swearing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken forever to update, I couldn't seem to get archive to work, but it's okay now! Also, I believe I put this up before, but here is the link to my tumblr, where the fic is much more updated and I actually know how to use italics: https://imightbeapotatobutihavestandards.tumblr.com/post/175316370599/hes-hurting-me

Virgil sat, alone, on a swing, in a pretty much abandoned park. The sun was beginning to dip below the skyline, painting everything in a burnt orange hue, and touching it with a pale shade of yellow. It wasn’t very late, but darkness was already approaching.

He let my feet lightly scrape against the floor as he swung gently, letting himself be weightless for a moment. He tried to let the thoughts go, tried to stop thinking, but it was so difficult. At this point Virgil wasn’t even sure what the thoughts were, why he was anxious, or why he was shaking, he just felt like there was so much going on. He tilted his head back, letting his bright purple bangs fall lightly over his eyes, being washed in the final dying rays of the sun. He liked sunsets. He thinks how in books it symbolised an end, a death, foreshadows hope dying or danger approaching, everything negative. But they were so beautiful. The deep reds, glittering ambers and faded pinks mixing with powdery blue, seeing that much colour at once captured him, and he wasn’t sure why, but it’s what made reality just that little bit more bearable. A beautiful goodbye.

Virgil was jerked out of his mind by a text message. He hesitantly pulled his phone out of his oversized black hoody, to see a message on it. The message was from his only friend; Patton. They’d practically grown up together, living on the same street since they were kids, coming to this very park to play, they even went to school together, though Virgil didn’t see Patton much there. They had different lessons (Virgil was in the lower year) and during free time Virgil tended to sit by himself in the library, Patton would sometimes sit with him, which was nice, though recently he’d been getting pretty close with another kid. Virgil would meet him… eventually. He just tended not to be very good with people… unless they were Patton. It was difficult not to be good with Patton though, Virgil had never known a kinder, more caring or more genuine person, he’d helped him through so much, and was always understanding and patient with him. He was practically his older brother, though they did have a long-standing joke that he was more of a dad. Hence his contact name

Dad: Is that you sat on the swings?

Me: Yeah

Dad: May I join?

Me: Go ahead

Virgil was quite thankful for that as he looked down at his shaking hands, before stuffing them in his hoody. Talking to Patton always helped him calm down.

It wasn’t long before Patton was approaching him wordlessly, wrapping a large scarf over himself.

“How was your day?” He chirped brightly, taking a seat on the swing next to the other.

“Same old, same old. James didn’t notice me which was pretty good, just got a couple odd looks.” Virgil replied, his voice a bit lower and far more solemn.

“Y’know to come get me if he tries anything, right?”

Virgil chuckled. “You’ve already saved one person from James and his gang, you can stop there.”

“I can stop when James and his gang stop being bullies.” Patton replied, his voice brimming with determination.

“That’s never going to happen.”

“Then I will never stop.” Patton smiled brightly causing the other to laugh.

“Well, for now you don’t need to worry, he’s not interested in me.”

“No, but I think I know who he has focused on.” Patton’s voice changed dramatically, it was sad, and protective.

“Oh?”

“A boy came running into the bathroom just as I was leaving.” He looked down, his words laced with hurt and empathy. “I could hear him have a panic attack, it was really, really bad. I couldn’t just leave him, so I talked to him through the door. It took a while but he managed to calm himself down, we talked a bit afterwards. I think we’re friends now, I’m gonna ask him to sit with me and Lo at lunch.” Patton started smiled a bit at the last sentence.

“Wow… That sounds, intense.” Was all Virgil could manage, he thought this mystery kid in the bathroom must have been at least slightly lucky that Patton was the one there. He knew from multiple first-hand experiences, that Patton was amazing when it came to helping people with that sort of stuff.

“It was, the sort of stuff they were saying to him.” Patton’s voice had switched again. “Stuff about his sexuality, stuff about the play-“

“Oh! The play!” Virgil suddenly remembered he’d neglected to tell Patton about that. “Sorry continue, I just remembered something.”

“No no, I was pretty much just rambling, what’ve you remembered about the play?” The older boy’s voice seemed very excited, it wasn’t often Virgil had something that seemed so important.

“Well, it’s just…” He sighed for a moment, preparing himself. “I might be part of the play?” Virgil wasn’t sure why it came out as a question but it didn’t matter, Patton had gotten the message.

“Oh my-“ Patton was practically squealing, covering the bottom half of his face with his fists, he was practically buzzing. “I’m so proud of you! Oh my goodness! This is massive Virge!”

“Chill Patton,” The younger chuckled, pushing his bangs to the side. “It’s just helping backstage and stuff, it was kinda an emergency, they needed more people, and I was in a good place. I thought… it may be good for me, y’know. It’s pretty fun actually, though some of the drama kids are so far up their own ass th-“

Virgil was cut off by Patton throwing his arms over him, he chuckled, relaxing instantly into the bear hug.

“I’m so so so proud of you Virge! This is amazing!” The elder beamed, “Wait is this why you’ve been so late out recently? And is this where you’ve been disappearing off to at lunch? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Virgil thought for a moment. He hadn’t meant to keep it a secret, he had meant to tell Patton. But things seemed to get in the way. He thought back to a month ago, the day he signed up.

He remembered getting home, genuinely happy, with himself, and he hadn’t been sure how long it had been since he felt like that. He had been so excited to tell everyone, prove that his anxiety didn’t control him. His mother often called him the personification of anxiety, not in a horrible way, she’d say it calmly and kindly as she brushed his hair behind his ears, her tired, worn eyes staring into his own worried filled ones, she’d be so happy to know he did something, something that required stepping out of his comfort zone, and facing his fears. Even if only a little bit, it was still progress. He knew his grandma would be proud of him too, she said she was always proud of him, for surviving and persevering, but he couldn’t wait to tell her this. Virgil’s grandmother also struggled with anxiety and depression, especially when she was his age, it allowed them to connect a lot. His grandma was a role model for him, she had fought her way through so much; losing her husband, watching her daughter’s life crumble as her asshole of a husband left her, trying to look after her daughter and grandson, fighting through her depression and her anxiety and her grieving to be there for her family. Setting aside her generation’s upbringing and mindset to be entirely understanding when her grandson came out as something that should be frowned upon. All through this, she had days where she couldn’t find it in her to get out of bed, she had days when she just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, she had days when she felt empty. The battle was never-ending, but she never gave up, and Virgil could only look in admiration at her. That was his grandmother.

His mother had dealt with her father dying at a young age, her husband leaving her, dealt with trying to support their family with several jobs, and through all that remained kind, and understanding, and accepting. That was his mom.

Some may see it as broken, but Virgil couldn’t ask for a better family. As unfortunately Disney as that sounded, he loved them both so much, and he wanted to make them proud.

He’d smiled, chucking his bag to the side as he walked into the living room, his heart stopped beating as he looked up.

“Mom?” The smile died and made way for a look of deep concern, his voice instantly changing, he once again became that small, lost kid, asking where his dad went.

His mom’s face was red and blotchy, her desperately tired eyes glossy and puffy. Virgil’s mind began racing, what happened? What could have happened? What was the worst possible explanation? His eyes darted around the room, he noticed the empty chair. His brain stumbled upon the worst possible explanation.

“Where’s grandma?”

Silence.

There was a choked sobbing sound, and his mom hid her face in her hands for a moment, before quickly jerking her head up to face her son, pointing at the chair.

“Sit down Virgil… Please?”

Virgil snapped back to reality with Patton gently brushing his cheeks with his thumbs.

“Hey, you alright kiddo?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, yeah, I-I’m good.” He realised he was crying. He swiftly stood, taking a quick stride away from his friend, rubbing his eyes into his jacket sleeve and managing to recover himself. “I-I didn’t tell you because… stuff… y’know… kinda came up…”

Patton understood, Virgil had texted him that night, as he was sobbing into a pillow that he’d hugged close to his body. Patton was practically family at this point, he considered Virgil’s grandma his own, she was truly a wonderful woman. She helped Virgil, and Patton, so much, her loss hit him hard too.

Virgil had taken the week off, knowing he couldn’t focus on his studies, or anything, not in that state. But, come the following week, he was determined to return, despite the bullies and the teachers, despite everything the world would throw at him. His grandma would have wanted that, would have wanted him to fight. It required a lot of time crying in school bathrooms, and a couple early days, but he did it. He fought like she did. He could still feel her loss with him, it made getting up in the mornings so much harder, but he was coping.

Patton took a step forward, clasping his friend reassuringly on his shoulder. “I’m so freakin proud of you kiddo, for everything.”

“Thanks Pat.” Virgil smiled, pulling the other in for a long, warm hug.


	7. Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike overheard Patton’s phone call, he’d easily inferred what was being said by Patton’s responses. He desperately needs to let his anger out on something, but Patton is the only thing there.  
> Warning: Abuse, violence, swearing, explicit language, blood, implied sexual abuse and a lot of crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to reiterate, this chapter gets dark, so please everyone, take care x

Patton followed Mike inside, it hadn’t been hard to figure out what he and Logan had been talking about, and Mike was clearly livid. Still, Patton hoped, it’s early, he hasn’t drunk anything, he’ll be reasonable about this. Patton desperately clung to that hope.

As Mike finally came to a stop in the living room, Patton heart felt like it was about to crash through his chest, shattering his rib cage in the process.

“Mike I-“

“Abusive, huh? I get angry? I control you? How dare you imply that, how dare you not tell him to shut the fuck up?!” His voice was loud, he wasn’t yelling, but it was loud, and venomous, and seething.

“He was just concerned-“

“Just concerned? Concerned for his poor Patton? What about me? No one ever cares about me! Do you think about how I feel when you’re accusing me of being abusive?! No! Of course you don’t! All I’ve done is care about you and you repay me like this?!” He spat.

“I-I know it’s j-“ He got cut off again, his voice getting caught in the back of his throat.

“When he called ME, your boyfriend, abusive, what did you do? Did you get mad? Did you rush to my defence? No, you arrange to have coffee with him…”

“I-“

“YOU ARRANGE TO GET COFFEE WITH HIM!” His voice suddenly rose violently, Patton jumped backwards, he felt terror pulse through as his body. He was trying to speak, trying to calm the situation, but he couldn’t find the words.

“You arrange to get coffee, with that bastard, and then that shitty actor. What next, going to the movies with that pathetic emotional wreck?”

“DON’T TALK ABOUT MY FRIENDS LIKE THAT!” Finally, Patton let the noise rip from his throat. He found his voice. This was the first time he’d yelled back, a stunned silence fell on both of them. Everything seemed to settle. Everything was still. It was crushing.

“So… you stand up for them, but not for me?” Mike bit out, his head lowered, aggression settling in heavily. He was practically shaking with rage. “You stand up for them…” He continued darkly, his voice low and dangerous. “…and you don’t stand up for YOUR OWN BOYFRIEND!” His head suddenly jerked up, as his piercing eyes locked onto Patton.

The silence shattered, exploding down onto Patton. He should apologise, take it back. But he couldn’t. He had meant what he said. He stood frozen, determined and terrified, as everything came crashing down around him.

“IS THE HOW YOU FEEL ABOUT ME?! WHY DON’T YOU GO LIVE WITH ONE OF THEM?! UNGRATEFUL PIECE OF SHIT!”

Mike waited for something, but Patton remained unresponsive. The unrelenting anger bubbled and boiled, the familiar feeling crawling up again. There was that need to break and destroy, and Patton was right there.

“ANWER ME!” He ordered, storming forward, pushing the man in front of him as hard as he could. Patton stumbled backwards, legs giving out at the force. He fell into the wall heavily. He looked up at the other, shocked, not moving from his place on the ground. Terrified, he remained voiceless, but his eyes were screaming, pleading, glistening with fear.

Mike’s need wasn’t satisfied with just that. He whipped his head around, his brain making connections instantaneously, as his muscles moved, almost against his will.

The dustpan was still on the coffee table. He was grabbing it. He was throwing it. Patton was screaming.

Blood. Lots of blood.

Mike hadn’t realised the large fragments of broken glass were still there. When he’d thrown the piece of plastic, he’d put all his anger, hurt, and power into it. The shards of glass had sprayed out, with dramatic force, onto Patton. Luckily he’d managed to bring his arms up to protect his face, but the shrapnel had still sliced into his wrists and arms, cutting surprisingly deep.

It had felt like dozens of tiny knives, digging into his skin. He hesitantly brought his arms down, looking at them in disbelief and pain. His arms were adorned with cuts; some were deep, some were merely scratches from glass splinters, some were jagged, some were clean, some still had glass in. All were coated in blood.

“Shit.” Mike mumbled, half dazed at his own actions. He ran out the room, clearly searching for something.

Patton hesitantly attempted to pluck the shards out of his skin, wincing as he did. He looked at his arms, and his blood soaked hands, and around at the empty room. He panicked, he was scared, he wanted help. He could feel tears rolling down his cheek as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Almost instinctively, Patton pulled up Logan’s contact, his thumb hovering over the call button. But, before he could press, Mike returned with a first-aid kit.

Patton couldn’t even process the thought of putting the phone down, he gripped it tightly and cried, and cried, and cried. He couldn’t even think, he wasn’t even sure what was making him cry, everything just seemed to blur. Memories meshed together. Feelings mixed to form something overwhelming, and all Patton could do was cry.

Mike, without a word, gently began cleaning and tending to Patton’s free arm.

“Please Patton…Stop crying…” He whispered softly, his voice remorseful. Patton took a sharp intake of breath, and then again, and then again. Now he was just panting. Now he couldn’t breathe. He felt his own emotions consuming him, he couldn’t stop crying.

“Patton, stop crying.” The strain in his voice was crystal clear, but Patton was entirely lost in his own mind.

Mike was overwhelmed, with the noise, the guilt, the hatred, the hurt, the betrayal, the disgust, and Patton wouldn’t stop crying. He could feel the familiar feeling bubble up inside him, and he could have sworn he was helpless against it.

“STOP FUCKING CRYING!” He shouted harshly, grabbing Patton’s other arm to tend to. Patton let out a yelp of pain, but Mike didn’t care, his eyes landed on the phone, finally recognising the intentions.

He couldn’t even bring himself to speak, words lay empty on his tongue, his hands shaking, tightening their grip around the arm.

The vice got tighter and tighter, until it was almost crushing. Patton winced, making desperate eye contact as a form of communication.

Please stop. Please.

But Mike couldn’t understand, or maybe he just didn’t care. Without loosening his grip, he took his free hand and snatched the phone. He threw the phone across the room as hard as he could. Instantly, it shattered, sending splinters of glass flying.

Without hesitation Mike stood, dragging Patton to his feet too.

“Don’t you dare, speak to any of them about this. Or about anything for that matter. You are not seeing them. I won’t let you leave me for them. I won’t” He snarled viciously, letting Patton drop to the floor as he walked to their room.

It took Patton a very long while to calm down. It took him even longer to attend to his other arm and attempt to recover his now destroyed phone. He put off going back to their room as long as possible; he cleaned, he cried, then he calmed down, then he cried again. In the end, he was crying over so much more than that night. He was crying for the nights he’d missed with his friends, the nights he’d felt too scared to speak, the nights where no meant yes, the nights when he was sure it was over, the nights where they’d cuddled, the nights he’d have panic attacks, the nights when he was in love. Patton cried because he was in love with a monster, and because, maybe, beginning to fall out of love with him was more scary.

At some points amongst the headaches and shredded throat and shredded arms, he’d run out of tears. He was just, shaking. In a way it felt like he was drowning, he had so many plans to get help that were torn down by fear and love. He had so many emotions which were ripped apart by guilt. He wasn’t sure what was right and what wasn’t. He couldn’t reason things out, or ground himself in reality, or feel assured in himself, he was just a mess. A hopeless mess. And at some point this mess began to feel numb. Feel exhausted. The last of his defences crumbled as he practically crawled to his bedroom. He just wanted sleep. How late was it? It was still light outside. He didn’t care. He was just tired.

He wasn’t really sure what Mike said, but it seemed apologetic. He’s just nodded. He agreed to whatever Mike wanted. He was too exhausted to protest. He let everything happen. Because he was numb.

Because he didn’t feel anything, and then it didn’t hurt.

Because he was numb.

That’s what he told himself.

Numb.


	8. Happiness?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman, Logan and Patton are enjoying their lunch… Roman’s being dramatic  
> Warning: Bullying, explicit language, swearing, mentions of violence

Patton allowed his head to rest lightly on Logan’s shoulder, tears streaming down his cheeks. His face hurt from smiling, and he buried his head into the other’s shoulder for support. Logan was, actually laughing, which was a rare occurrence, as Patton discovered, but it was beautiful. His eyes were shut tightly and his smile was wide, displaying his teeth. He tried to cover his mouth with his hand, he’d told Patton how he hated his smile, but Patton could still see that bright grin and those little crinkles around his eyes, adorning his face. Logan’s body shook but there was barely any sound, other than an occasional wheezing. Patton’s laugh was loud and contagious, and Roman was trying his hardest to hold back his own.

Patton wasn’t even sure what he found so funny, they had been discussing future careers and y’know, having a normal conversation before it all disintegrated into a mess of laughter and tears and not-very-funny jokes.

The conversation had jumped from Logan wanting to be a teacher, to them discussing what teachers do, to them discussing the route of one particular feature; Miss Fitch.

Miss Fitch was the teacher that was in a perpetually sour mood, and liked one, maybe two students, but other than that hated everyone. It was debatable whether she even liked children at all. But, one thing Miss Fitch was good at, was routine. Every day, she’d tie her ebony hair in a short, simple, and neat bun. Every day, she’d get a coffee on the way to work (black, no sugar, “Like her soul.”) And every day, on lunch duty, she’d wander round, surveying the school, looking for trouble, and crushing it wherever she saw a sign of havoc. She even matched the same route; at break she’d wander round the courtyard for exactly five minutes, then the canteen for five, then the rest of the school for the remaining ten. At lunch, she’d dedicate ten minutes to the courtyard and canteen, twenty to the school. She was never a second late. She patrolled the school with purpose and authority, no one questioned her.

Roman had commented how she was “basically Batman.” Then decided to do a commentary on her life.

“As I survey the school,” He began in a strange, high-pitched voice. “I look in every dark passage, every secret corner, I look everywhere to spot where DANGER, may be approaching.” Roman’s entire character was melodramatic, and put a weird emphasis on some words which, for some reason, was hilarious. He even threw in a few wild hand gestures for good measure.

Through the window, the group could see Miss Fitch, and noticed another teacher approach her.

“Simba…” Roman began. “One day, all this will be yours.” Logan had snorted at this point “-this isn’t even your sch-SIMBA!” Roman cut himself off with new dramatic voices.

This commentary had continued for a while, until Miss Fitch had disappeared from sight.

“Okay, she should be walking through the door in three, two, one-“ Miss Fitch stepped into the canteen, a frown etched onto her feature and eyes cold. Roman practically fell to the ground, hissing; “What is this witchcraft?”

“How do you do this?”

“Tell me your secrets.”

It really wasn’t that funny. But to them it was. To them just being around each other was enough to make anything funny. At this point, they were sat there, laughing at nothing. And Patton couldn’t have been happier. None of them could. This was one of the first times any of them had truly felt accepted in a group, felt like they’d found people they belong with. The lightness in their stomachs, the aches from smiling, the tears streaming down their faces from pure happiness… it was a feeling that had been unknown for so long, and now they could relish in it.

After eventually calming down, they decided to talk about the play, seen as how the last thread of conversation got away from them a bit.

“I’m so excited for you guys to see it!” Roman practically shone, sitting up straight and clapping his hands in front of his face. “It’s going to be amazing, well…” His tone dropped slightly, looking away at the floor dramatically. “…If those stage hands could get their act together. I mean, really, how hard is it to-“

“-Hey now, one of my oldest and closest friends is helping back stage Roman, careful what you say about him.” Patton warned, his tone could almost be considered half-hearted and friendly… almost.

“Wait, really?” Roman’s asked. “What’s his name?”

“Virgil. Virgil Sharp.”

Roman thought for a second. “No, no. Doesn’t ring any bells, he must be new.”

“He is.” Patton chirped, happy to talk about his friend. “It’s not usually his thing, he usually hates that kind of stuff. Doesn’t do well under pressure, y’know, and doesn’t like attention either-“

“-can’t relate.”

“No, I’m sure you can’t Roman.” Logan deadpanned. “Continue.”

“Well, all together it’s not really his scene. But he saw that your drama group were in need of some more helping hands, and, thought he’d offer.”

“That was very kind of him.” Logan noted. “Especially if he’s more… introverted.”

“It is, indeed, quite… admirable.” Roman conceded.

“Yeah, I think he wanted to… not challenge himself but, I don’t know, put himself out there?”

“I understand what you mean, and that’s very good of your friend.” Logan smiled.

“WAIT!” Roman announced, very loudly. “Is he the guy with eyeshadow?”

“That’ll be him.” Patton replied.

Roman inwardly cringed as he remembered yelling at him about moving a prop… which he didn’t even do. Not his finest hour. He had, half-heartedly, apologised afterwards, though mystery kid just shrugged him off. It was also that moment Roman noticed how attractive he was, and he cringed even more, realising that that was Patton’s best friend. It wasn’t Roman’s fault the guy was hot… he just had to hope they either never met, or Patton was okay with Roman’s pining.

“Aww look, little Prince Fag has made himself some friends.” Roman sat bolt upright, a spike of anger shooting through him. He kept his eyes fixed on the table, hating himself as the cold shiver of fear crawled up his back, immobilising him.

A large group made their way over to the three, James heading it. “And oh, look who we have here!” He smiled devilishly. “Logan, you have actually found someone who can stand being around you. Granted Prince is almost as annoying as you are, but I guess it’s better than being entirely alone and unwanted like usual.” 

“How’s your throat, Logan?” A girl with dirty blonde hair, Rachel, called mockingly. Snickers rose, as did a fair few more comments.

Logan visibly shrank into himself, dunking is head down, tensing his shoulders, desperately trying to make himself seem smaller, he thought about the deep red and purple bruises embossing his skin with fear. Patton watched as his two friends became crippled with terror, watched as they tried to mask their hurt, watched as they took everything said to heart, and he felt his blood boil.

“What the hell is your problem? Why can’t you just leave us alone? We’ve never done anything to you.” He snapped, turning to face the group. Logan and Roman’s eyes both darted to him in shock, unsure of what to do now.

“Of course you’re here gay boy, you’re that desperate you’ll settle for those two weirdos.” A reply came.

“I’m not settling for anything. Logan and Roman are my friends, I wouldn’t change that for anything.” Patton replied, defiantly.

Louis laughed, pushing forward. “What the fuck is wrong with your head, man? You’re making this too easy. Seriously, what is your deal, you were completely irrelevant till now, are you begging for attention that much you’ll hang around with these losers so we’ll speak to you?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, besides, I know you’d love to see me begging.” Patton shot back, Louis eyes flying wide, several people holding him back from walking forward.

"What the fuck are you implying, fag?” Louis hissed.

“Leave it Louis, not now.” James prompted, holding him back. “This isn’t over Sanders.” He hissed. “Just you wait.” Leading the group away, James began whispering, no doubt planning something.

They couldn’t hurt any of them, not in the canteen. The canteen had Miss Fitch, it was patrolled, it would have cameras, it would have lunch ladies; if they were caught by a teacher, they would stand no chance. None of the staff wanted them there, they were loud, rude and difficult, they were the reasons teachers hated their jobs. Any teacher would love to get a “bad” student expelled for any reason, and if it was expelled for bullying, then they’d get moral points. They’d get to feel that bit better about themselves, like they’d saved a poor helpless animal. However, as much as the staff may try, other children weren’t good witnesses, not when it came to convincing ignorant parents their child wasn’t the beautiful angel of God that they perceived. Even if the other student was bleeding and bruised all over, if their little ray of sunshine had a scratch, then it was justified. It was self-defence. And, even then, one child’s word against another child… didn’t mean much to anyone. Unless it suits their own needs, no one believes children, or teens. James and his gang could get away with all the torment they wanted, so long as a teacher doesn’t see, because then it’s an experienced professional against a child. Still, a lot of the times that’s still not enough, but it gives the teacher a basis to do some digging, and what teacher doesn’t want to really be a detective? They’d love to piece together the puzzle and prove that that one frustrating kid that never works, doesn’t belong in their school.

So essentially, they couldn’t touch anyone in the canteen. James and his friends may be ignorant, but they weren’t stupid… well, that’s debatable, but still they understood they couldn’t risk letting Louis beat Patton bloody here. So they began setting up a new plan.

The three understood this, but still, Patton held his ground, turning back to the shocked pair.

“Don’t let what they say get to you guys.” Patton spoke softly, reassuringly. “They’re completely wrong, about everything.” He offered a small, warm smile to both of them, and placed his hand gently on Logan’s shoulder.

“Patton y-“

“Yeah I know, they’ll get me back, but we can deal with that later, right now, you two are my priority. Don’t listen to them okay. You are both amazing people and I love spending time with you, don’t give them the satisfaction of questioning that and just trust me.”

“Thanks Patton.”


	9. Friend, Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan begins to get worried when Patton ditched both him and Roman, without even a text. He knows something’s wrong, so he finally goes to see him. Desperate to help.  
> Warnings: Lots of talk about abuse, violence, sexual abuse, cuts/scars, panic attacks, explicit language

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is freaking long guys, honestly I’m sorry. They’re usually like 1500 words… this is over 5000… I got a bit carried away. Also I get this might be a bit confusing without italics, but it flicks from Patton's thoughts and his internal process to third person quite a bit.

Logan wasn’t mad when Patton didn’t show up for coffee the next day. He’d tapped his fingers repeatedly on the table, checked his watch, messaged him. Nothing. He called him. Nothing. That wasn’t odd, Patton often forgot to charge his phone, or turn it on, or even answer. Never on purpose, it just slipped his mind as his phone wasn’t that important to him, he was the opposite of Roman and Virgil in that respect. What was odd, wasn’t Patton blowing him off. It had happened so many times by now, something would come up last minute, something usually to do with Mike. What was odd, was Patton not notifying him before. Patton was the kindest, sweetest person Logan had ever met, and he’d never want Logan to waste his valuable time, sitting alone, upset and embarrassed in a coffee shop, he’d have told him as soon as possible. But Logan wasn’t mad that Patton had just left him, in the coffee shop, by himself.

Logan wasn’t mad when Patton did the same to Roman. The following Monday, Roman sat alone, waiting for his friend to appear. But he never showed up. Roman tried calling him, but nothing. Defeated, he’d messaged Logan and left, picking up an extra ice coffee for Virgil on his way out. Logan felt a familiar feeling bubbling up in him again, pulsing through him. But Logan wasn’t mad, not at all.

Logan wasn’t mad when he discovered Patton hadn’t been at work for that past week. It was Thursday by the time Logan managed to get to the cafe before it closed. It was coming up to exam season and Logan had been desperately grading essays, homework, extra revision, and trying to help each student individually, trying to find ways to explain things better for them. He’d been desperate to see Patton, but by the time he’d left the school, it was already too late. Thankfully, come Thursday he’d only had to briefly explain red shift to a student after class, then he was free to go. He’d usually have lessons to plan, but not tonight. He rushed to his car and made his way to the café, he’d practically sprinted to the door, swinging it open in a dramatic Roman-esque fashion. There only were a few customers, most of them being students, happily chatting and sipping coffee in the comfortable café. Thomas, Patton’s older brother, was casually wiping down the deep brown counter, he looked up through his fringe, grinning brightly when he saw Logan.

“Hey, Logan!” He smiled that bright smile the Sanders’ seemed to possess, an infectiously beautiful smile. “What can I do for you?”

“Salutations, Thomas. I was actually looking for your brother.”

“Oh.” Thomas seemed very confused, tilting his head the smallest bit to the side. “He’s-um, he’s not been in. For the whole week. Mike called up and told me he was ill.”

Breath caught in Logan’s throat, it took everything in him to keep his voice level and face emotionless. “Mike told you?”

“Well, yeah, is something wrong?” Thomas asked, putting down the cloth and standing up straight, concern lacing his voice.

“I’m not sure.” Logan replied honestly. “I’ll stop by his on my way home. Don’t worry about it Thomas, I’ll text you when I see him.” He turned to leave.

“Alright, take care of him Logan.” Thomas replied, eyebrows still knitted together in concern, posture still straight as a blade.

“I will.”

Logan wasn’t mad. Logan was terrified. Patton hated missing work, he loved that café too much, and he loved spending time with Thomas. Patton would come in deathly pale, barely able to stay on his feet, and Thomas would have to call Virgil, or even on the occasion they were free, Roman and Logan, to force Patton home. Something didn’t feel right. The teacher wasn’t one to panic easily, and certainly wasn’t one to jump to conclusions, but he was sure there was something deeply wrong going on, and it made him feel physically sick. The thought of Patton; sweet, wonderful Patton, getting hurt in any way, seemed so unthinkable, but Logan knew it had been happening for a while. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white, his self-restraint working overtime to stop him from hunting Mike down right then and there. Again, Logan wasn’t one for jumping to conclusions, and here he was so convinced of Mike’s hidden malicious nature, with only circumstantial evidence, however, when it came to Patton, Logan wasn’t always the most reasonable. The young man just did something to him, something that could sometimes cloud his cynical thoughts, or interfere with his insecurities, something that made him feel the need to protect the little ray of sunshine.

By the time Logan pulled up in Patton’s driveway, his usually restricted emotions seemed to be running riot in him. It was a containable riot, but a riot none the less. His thoughts seemed to spiral from fear and worry, to rage at Mike, to utter confusion at why he felt like everything was crumbling around him when he hadn’t even spoke to Patton yet. Logan paused, taking a deep breath and counting to ten, steeling himself and trying to calm his revolting emotions. He tried desperately to think reasonably as he knocked on the bright blue door, already preparing for several different situations.

Logan wasn’t sure why he hadn’t expected the door to pull open slowly and cautiously. But it did. Patton’s head peeked through the gap, clearly confused, his eyes looking lost and a little scared. His expression changed completely upon seeing Logan, and he swung the door open fully, revealing his full body.

“Logan?” Patton asked, eyebrows furrowing together. “Wh…why are you-“ Patton cut himself off as he noticed his friend’s horrified expression. He followed the taller’s eyes to his bandaged wrists, panic beginning to settle.

Instinctively he drew back, hiding his arms behind his back, mind searching through a million excuses, but it was too late, Logan had seen and was advancing towards him as he fumbled for words. Patton was so lost he had faded out for a moment, and suddenly all he knew was a figure was close to him, he was holding out a hand, he was reaching for him, Patton’s heart leapt and he jerked backwards, cowering, expecting pain. Logan stopped dead in his tracks, looking at Patton heartbroken.

“Patton, please can I see your hand?” Logan’s voice sounded so much softer, so much sadder than he’d heard it in a while. The taller man stepped inside the house and shut the door, cutting off the outside world, much to the other’s relief. Patton shakily complied, praying to anyone who would listen that Logan wouldn’t freak out.

But he wasn’t a religious man.

Logan carefully unwrapped the bandages, inspecting the wounds, he couldn’t help the slight relief upon realising they weren’t self-inflicted, so what caused them? The cuts were uneven, some deep, some not, some already seemed pretty much healed. One of his wrists was also bruised, the soft freckled skin stained with deep purple, vivid blues and sickening yellows. Logan seemed to jump through so many possibilities, eliminating several as a new theory popped up. Whatever the cause, right now, it didn’t matter, because one conclusion always stayed the same: who had done it. Logan felt that bubble of rage in his stomach, his worry for his friend made him attempt to swallow it down, but it never seemed to subside.

“Patton when did you last change these bandages?” Logan practically growled, not daring to meet Patton’s eyes. He knew his tone would already scare the poor man enough, let alone the fire burning behind his eyes. Like he predicted, Patton flinched slightly, causing a part of the teacher to shatter, dulling the flames eating at him by a little, not enough though.

“U-um…” Patton squeaked, desperately searching his mind for the last time he’d dared look at his aching arms. He realised, with regret, he hadn’t changed them since they’d first been bandaged, he’d been too intimidated by what it meant, it taunted him of what had happened. How he’d caused Mike to lash out. How he’d gotten himself hurt. How it was all his fault… wasn’t it?

“Sunday?” Patton said, though it came out like a question. He could feel Logan sigh heavily, his voice softened suddenly with protectiveness as he spoke.

“Please sit down.” He then walked to where he knew Patton kept his bandages.

Logan knew he had to contain himself, he hated how he’d scared Patton already. The young man had been through enough. Collecting supplies he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and counted to ten. He could deal with his anger later, his first priority is Patton. His thoughts quickly flickered back to all the times the protective younger man had fought for him, how when Logan had thought he was trapped Patton had grabbed his hand and they’d ran, how Patton never failed to come up with an awful pun in every situation, how he’d smile so brightly it was almost blinding. He felt relief run through him, just for a moment, dimming the fires. He kept thinking, kept trying to calm himself, for Patton. He thought back to the first time he’d openly cried around Patton, felt the pressure release as he finally just collapsed into caring arms. He winced again remembering the pained expression when he’d shown Patton his scar, and how his face had changed to utter heartbreak when he told him it was of his own father’s doing. Logan vividly remembered how everything he’d tried to keep hidden so desperately for all those years of his life suddenly came spilling out, how everything so ugly and pitiful just fell from his mouth because he was so unable to stop it, and because Patton was so ready to listen.

*Flashback because somehow Logan’s backstory made it here*

Logan allowed himself to think back to what had happened after that. Patton had begged him to get out of that house but Logan couldn’t, it would mean leaving his father alone. Logan’s mother had died in a car accident when he was younger, and since he had always been blamed for it, so he understood where his father’s aggression came from, and despite all the fear he harboured towards him, he loved him, he couldn’t abandon him, leave him truly alone. At least he couldn’t until that night. The night of his mother’s birthday, when his father all but drowned himself in cheap liquor and allowed himself to stew in his awful mood, he was so much more unstable than usual. Logan remembered crawling to bed when the older man had finally let him go, the one place he was safe was in his room. He had finally allowed himself to curl into a ball cradling his bruising arm, when he’d heard heavy footsteps. He tensed and froze automatically, squeezing his eyes shut, knowing if he just pretended to be asleep his father wouldn’t care, like usual. But that wasn’t the case that night. The steps continued, he heard them draw closer and closer, he remained paralysed as his door swung open. His limbs were stuck entirely, like every muscle had just stopped working. He’d hoped his father would just leave, but he didn’t. He felt a hatred filled gaze that was cast at him, and something icy cold crawled up his spine. Suddenly out of nowhere he felt a weight on him, and arms forcing him to turn onto his back. He’d snapped his eyes open, only to be met with blurry dark shapes, without even realising it he reached for his glasses, scooping them off his bed side table and trying to sit up. The arms knocked the glasses from his hands, and pined him against the bed. He wasn’t sure what was happening.

Logan remembered vividly the constricting feeling of arms on him, the fear of the unknown, how he’d screamed as loud as possible and how the sound had been muffled with panic. His father was shouting something at him. He was shaking him, a bruising grip on his arms.

Nononononononono.

That was all he could process. His defiance.

Nononononononono.

He frantically flung his arms anywhere, reaching for anything he could find. His hands closed around something on his table, it was heavy and an odd shape, he didn’t have time to process what it was. He desperately attempted to grab it, eventually managing to curl his fingers around the odd shape. With all his strength he smashed it heavily against his attacker, hearing a violent smash. It was his lamp. He didn’t have time to care. The weight fell off him, as soon as he could move he was up. He scooped his glasses from the floor and sprinted down the stairs, stumbling and hitting the wall as he went. He needed something, where was his phone? Clothes? Keys? Had to get out. Needed basics. There’s the door. Can’t leave yet. Footsteps. Phone.

Logan grabbed his school bag, knowing it had a fair amount of necessary items and hurtled himself towards the door. He ran through the darkness, barely noticing the tears, he just ran and ran and ran. His mind barely processing anything other than his feet meeting the pavement. He just ran. Until he stopped. Vague recognition seeped into his clouded mind. He’d barely had time to breathe, his mind focusing on his feet again and forcing him to walk forwards. He couldn’t comprehend anything until he knocked on the door, and by some miracle, it opened.

A ruffled Patton in pyjama bottoms, a pale blue hoody and slightly tilted glasses stood before him, and in that moment more than ever, he looked like an angel. Logan collapsed onto him, crying, sobbing embarrassingly loud, but he didn’t care, and neither did Patton.

It had taken a while to feel safe again, except when he was with Patton. Patton had helped him so much; encouraged him to see a therapist, to find his aunt, to tell people. Without Patton, Logan wasn’t sure what would have happened, so now he needed to repay him. 

Logan sighed, finally leaving with the supplies to see Patton with his head hung, sat on the sofa. Logan’s hands were no longer balled into fists, his knuckles no longer white, and his rage no longer uncontrollable. Instead he was overwhelmed by the urge to hug Patton closely to him, to convince him he was safe now and wrap a blanket around his shoulders. He wanted to return to Patton, what he had given him so long ago. He wanted Patton to feel heard and secure and that maybe things would be okay. Everything Patton had been so desperate to hide, Logan wanted it freed, because he knew the relief he’d feel. More than anything, he wanted Patton to be happy, because that man deserved the world.

Tentatively he stepped closer, voicelessly sitting next to his friend. The teacher winced as the smaller man beside him flinched, eyes wide and brimming with fear, he could practically hear his beating heart.

“Don’t worry Patton, it’s simply me.” He stated, wincing again, only this time at his own cold tone of voice. Logan had never been the best at emotions and feelings and allowing them to come across, but for Patton he’d try his best. He readjusted in his seat, turning in to face the smaller man, letting their knees graze gently together, hoping it would provide tentative comfort. Thankfully, it did, Patton recognised Logan’s attempts, smiling at him with sad, broken eyes. Logan’s heart broke even more.

“I um… I am deeply deeply sorry if my, earlier attitude, scared you. I just, I know I snapped, and that was so wrong of me. You’ve always been there for me Patton, I could never ask for a better friend… I just wish I could be the same for you, but evidently, I am… struggling.”

“Oh, Lo-“ Patton tried to comfort him, but Logan held up his hand, gently smiling.

“I will strive to be better, for you. As I said, you have always been there for me, so it is difficult seeing someone I care about so much hurt, as such it was difficult for me to, control my emotions. Still that’s no excuse for scaring you.”

“Logan,” Patton said, voice soft, almost fragile, but entirely sympathetic. “It’s okay, I-I’m fine, really it’s nothing. Nothing at all. Don-“

“Falsehood.” Logan interrupted, voice still calm and quite, yet warm. He didn’t need to say anything else, everything seeped out in the tone of his voice. It’s not okay. You’re not okay. But I can help. Logan held out a hand patiently. “May I?”

Patton’s eyes flickered from his friend’s face to his out stretched hand, before he cautiously, like a frightened animal, allowed his wrist to fall into the other’s large, slim hands. Logan’s long fingers curled around the wrist carefully, pulling it lightly towards his face so he could inspect it. He decided the best course of action would be to clean and then re-bandage the cuts, they were bad, but didn’t run deep enough to warrant expert medical help, though needed to be routinely cleaned to ensure they didn’t get infected.

At first, Patton had winced when the cold, wet cloth was pressed against his skin, it sent a sharp stinging sensation over his skin, Logan automatically drew away.

“I… I am sorry Patton, this will sting a bit but I’m afraid it must be done. I really am-“

“It’s fine Logan.” Patton interrupted, holding his arm out again. “Go on.”

Nodding, Logan placed the cloth back on the cuts, being very careful about cleaning them. After drying them, Logan began wrapping a bandage around his friend’s arm, his graceful slim fingers gliding around and precisely attending to the task. The process was then repeated on the other wrist, Patton watched in awe at the delicate process, and those fingers working with such precision and care seemed to capture him, he even almost forgot that deep feeling of guilt, disgust and fear that was writhing around in his stomach. It felt like death, like he was decaying from the inside and it was gradually consuming him all, eating up everything that was once him. He knew he had changed, and change isn’t a bad thing, of course he couldn’t be that bright-eyed and bold kid that he used to be, he’d grown up, but there was always still this childlike wonder in himself. Now, it felt like that had faded. He felt like so much had faded. So much so that he wasn’t sure who he was. It had become so difficult to look in a mirror.

Patton knew it wasn’t the first time, in fact, it had never been easy to look in a mirror, he’d always hated his appearance. Objectively, he wasn’t fat, but our minds seldom think objectively. He had short, stubby fingers, nothing like Logan’s long elegant ones. His legs were larger than Virgil’s thin ones. His chest was soft and he had a belly, unlike Roman’s toned chest and broad shoulders. His friends were all so beautiful, and he looked nothing like them. Though somehow, they had made him forget that, he had reached a point where he didn’t feel inadequate around them, and thought that maybe, if these people found him beautiful, then he could find himself beautiful too. What happened to that?

Patton looked up to his friends concentrated expression, his eyes fixed on his hands and a look of pure focus dancing in them, an unwilling smile crossed the smaller’s face. The feeling in his stomach became lighter, it wasn’t gone, not in the slightest, but it was an improvement. He missed Logan so much. He missed those late night talks that ranged from borderline insane to crying lightly into the others shoulder, feeling entirely protected and warm. He missed hearing that rare laugh Logan had, the one he’d always tried to hide but Patton adored. And of course he missed that begrudging smile he’d give after one of Patton’s finest dad jokes. Damn, Patton missed dad jokes. Mike hated dad jokes, so much more than Logan, so much more. Patton decided it wasn’t worth making them some time ago.

Logan didn’t need to say anything after he’d finished bandaging up his friend’s wrist, he just carefully opened his arms out, silently asking if the other wanted a hug. Instantly Patton fell into Logan’s arms, he felt them curl around him, the lean yet strong muscles shielding him from the outside world, he felt his heart rush and calm at the same time and he let a deep but shaky sigh. He allowed his own arms to wrap around Logan tightly, pulling them further together and burying his face in his friend’s neck. Logan moved slightly and lifted Patton’s legs so the other was comfortable and safe in his lap. He didn’t say anything, just held him, for a long while.

Eventually, Logan’s soft even voice broke through the silence, like the hum of the wind.

“Would you like to talk Patton? I understand it may not feel like it, but it is quite often beneficial for someone to talk about what is distressing them.”

Patton swallowed; did he really want to open up that wound?

He wasn’t even sure if he was justified, what he’d gone through wasn’t that bad, not really. Did he really have the right to paint Mike in such a light, if he really loved him? But, now he was questioning it, the warmth, the protection that Logan’s arms offered… he felt; safe. It had never felt like this with Mike. With Mike it had been uncomfortable, humid, suffocating, or even cold and overwhelmingly empty. When they were together, it wasn’t wrong, not when he was being kind. When they curled up together to watch movies, it was pleasant, nice, he had been content. Maybe at first he had felt his heart swell, felt the warmth he felt now, but this security, when he was curled into Logan, that seemed to surround him was so unlike anything he’d felt for a while. He’d missed this, missed Logan, so much. He wanted his best friend back. It made that question burn in the back of his mind, did he truly love Mike? Mike was a good person, he cared for Patton, so what if they had their ups and downs? Of course, of course Patton loved Mike, he had to, after everything… he’d done, he did for love, and that makes it okay, right? A sickness crawled from the very depth of his soul… but he’d done it for love, so that can’t be right! He tried pushing it down again but, like a snake, it crawled back up. He shouldn’t be feeling like this, because everything was fine, because he forgave Mike and he loved Mike and-

-and he was so lost. He was trying so desperate to find answers but every emotion just seemed to tangle into some unrecognisable, Gordian form. He looked up to Logan. Calm, collected, rational Logan. If anyone knew… If anyone could help Patton’s conflicted mind… it would be Logan. Logan, with those bright, dark brown eyes that shone with compassion and patience. His lips were a thin flat line yet those brilliant emotive eyes told Patton everything he needed to know.

Logan held his gaze, not pushing him or prompting him, which strengthened Patton’s resolve. The smaller nodded, breathing in deeply as he did.

Logan readjusted, allowing Patton to move out of his lap, he re-positioned himself in front of the shorter and instinctively grabbed his hands, gently enough that he wasn’t trapped by the grip but instead felt comforted. Patton smiled down at their carefully entwined hands, feeling a temporary warmth rush through him, before it was replaced with a flood of dread. He couldn’t help but holding on a little bit tighter, allowing the grip to stabilise him and give him strength.

He’d hidden this for so long, he wasn’t even sure what he was hiding anymore, or what might come tumbling out of his mouth when he found a place to begin at. He was determined, but he didn’t know where to start, because there had been no clear turning point, it was just a faded hazy mess that Patton had no idea what lead him here.

“Everything was fine… was good for… so long. I guess that, maybe, there were always little things but we all have our little things y’know? I’m far from perfect myself and our flaws are what make us, us, after all. And his flaws made Mike, Mike. And I loved him for them.” Patton rambled on, desperately trying to show, prove, to Logan the good in him. He was so lost trying to find the right words that he missed the flash of hurt that darted across his friend’s eyes, missed the way he tensed slightly and back straightened. It was only for the smallest second, then the impassive mask returned.

“But… he is very, insecure… he was, I don’t know threatened? By… by the amount of time I spent with you and Ro and Virgil. He um, he had a breakdown. He was so upset but embarrassed, I-it… it was my fault, and it hurt s-so much, but I just, I c-couldn’t put him through that again. I didn’t think it would be so bad, missing an hour or two of time with you all, but…” Patton breathed in deeply, allowing his voice to steady, Logan soothingly rubbed circles over shaking knuckles. “He got worse. He got more paranoid… more angry , just more-“ Patton cut himself off again, stumbling over his words, trying to make his jumbled thoughts coherent. “He’d always liked to drink, which is perfectly fine of course but, he suddenly became this different person. And then it started seeping into just, everything. He’d snap and yell and, and- I’d try to keep the peace. Do whatever he wanted – I even urged him to see a therapist once! But he’d just yell and say, horrible things. He didn’t mean it, it was the drink but… it still… hurt…” Patton admitted weakly, almost ashamed, like saying it out loud would make it more real. He waited the weight of the words to crash around him again.

Logan could feel a soft bubble of anger boiling; how could anyone hurt Patton? How dare anyone? But Patton didn’t need this right now, and after reminding himself of that, he easily swallowed back his quick temper and continued to soothe and listen. For Patton.

“B-but, after everything, he’d be so apologetic, kind… more, passionate…” Patton coughed awkwardly, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He didn’t have to say this, he reminded himself. He didn’t have to tell Logan. But he wanted to.

“There were a, um, a couple of times, w-when after a fight…” He felt the words get stuck at the back of his throat, choking him. He tried breathing, but his eyes kept darting to his bedroom, then to the floor. Logan noticed. His face hardened. His anger burned, roared inside him, but he held it in. He told himself not to jump to conclusions, Patton could be looking for an escape, a place of comfort. Logan let his rage extinguish, before shifting closer to Patton, looking at him with patient eyes.

“He… didn’t like me saying no, to… to sex.” Patton cringed at putting it so bluntly but he had to know Logan was on the same page. “He’d just, keep pushing, until I gave up… gave in.” He practically coughed out, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out the memories.

“I-“ Something cut him off, some sort of strangled, animal cry, that racked his body. He took a sharp, hissing intake of breath. All at once, he felt everything. The needy, unwanted hands crawling all over him. The hot breath against his neck. The cold sweat coating his body. The vile crawl up his throat. The feeling of shame heating his face. Another painful sob escaped him. He drew away from Logan, he couldn’t help it, hands were all over him, marking him, burning him.

Patton clamped his hand over his mouth, trying to squeeze his eyes shut even more, desperate to get the images out of his head. He’d done it for Mike, because he loved him, it was normal to want to prove it. If Mike needed Patton to prove it then he would, and that was okay. If he needed him to be good, then he would, he could make the sounds for him and pretend he was okay, pretend everything didn’t feel so, so wrong. If it meant that much, if saying no wasn’t accepted, then it must be important for him. He knew he would only be mad if he said no. But it was fine. He could do as he was told.

Hands, hands were on him again. They burnt. Reflexively he tensed, freezing up entirely.

“Patton,” Soft, calm caring. Not breathy, not needy, not demanding. “Patton, please look at me.”

He complied, fearfully, only to remember those hands were Logan’s, something somewhere felt lighter.

“I cannot begin to understand what you are going through. Know that everything you’re feeling, is exactly what you should be feeling, do not feel guilty.”

Patton nodded hesitantly, a sudden burst of memories surrounding his brain again.

The demands came flooding back. The feeling of helplessness surrounded him, paralysed him. He couldn’t breathe again. He tried biting back a sob, but instead gave in. He let the sobs crash over his body and tears cascade down his face.

What must Logan think? To know what you’ve done… he probably doesn’t want to be around you. Mike was right about you; just a whore. He was right. He was right. He was right.

“Patton.” Logan’s voice again. Patton wasn’t sure when he’d cupped his hands over his ears, or curled his knees into himself, or began muttering and rocking back and force, but when he looked up at Logan through his fringe with glistening, terrified eyes, he realised it all at once.

“Patton, I’m not – I could never think any less of you. No matter what. Least of all for that okay?”

“O-okay.” Patton gulped in the humid air, nodding quickly, the movement making his brain hurt.

“I know this is difficult Patton bu-“

“I-I’m fine. No.. I’m fine, I’m fine, I-“

“Stop. You are not fine. And it’s okay to admit that.” The smaller considered it, heart heavy and tears still streaming down his face, his thoughts were swimming through mess and memories. He opened his mouth, but it was dry, and his throat was hoarse. The words were painful, they were lies, and they burnt. 

Eventually, Patton breathed out. The hands were still there, they were threatening, hovering over him, but they weren’t on him. But they could be, at any moment, he was exposed and vulnerable and so so tired. He shook his head, feeling his fight drain out of him and letting his body collapse into Logan. He buried his face into the teachers neck, desperate to feel safety again, tugging at any remnants of protection he could. Logan wrapped his arms around the small, shivering form, protecting him from the hands. Protecting him from the world, and his thoughts, and everything.

“I’m not fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with this long ass update, they will all be longer now, though none as long as this. Now Patton's finally getting help... right?


	10. The Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the night of the production, Logan and Patton are watching it together, Roman’s acting and Virgil’s running around backstage trying to not have a panic attack. Once the play is done, Virgil finally, properly meets Roman and Logan  
> Warnings: Swearing? This chapters pretty much just fluff for fluffs sake. Oh, and Remy appears. Literally for no reason I just wanted to include my boi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluff for the soul. Also, thank you everyone so much for the lovely comments!

Logan trudged through the darkness, following the, by now, familiar path to his friend’s house. He pulled his dark trench coat closer to him as the biting winds sent a shiver through him. He ducked his head down into the soft scarf wrapped around his neck, allowing his face to warm when pressed against the soft material.

Eventually, he got to the deep crimson door of Patton’s house. Almost as soon as he had knocked, the door swung open, a lively Patton grinning brightly behind it. Instantly the smaller boy flung himself at Logan, hugging him tightly. Logan still was caught off guard, despite the familiar nature of the greeting, causing him to stumble backwards. He managed to steady himself after shifting his weight, and reluctantly hugged Patton back. Patton drew back, practically glowing, he pulled the sleeves of his jumper over his hands, giving himself paws. Logan wasn’t entirely sure why his heart seemed to stop, or why his breath got trapped in his throat, or why something warm bubbled up inside him, but it did, all by looking at the small boy in front of him.

Patton wore a pale, oversized blue jumper that fell far past his hips, and a white beanie that hid most of his hair, save a few stray curls that poked out from under the material. A black and white scarf was draped carelessly over his neck, telling Logan he’d grabbed it just before opening the door.

“LOGAN!” He cheered, readjusting his black-rimmed glasses, placing them back to where they were before he’d attacked Logan with a hug.

Logan opened his mouth, but he couldn’t seem to form words for a moment, he blinked and tried to recapture his ability to speak. He could feel the pink painting his cheeks, but he was convinced it was only the cold weather. Patton took Logan’s silence as a negative reaction to his greeting.

“Sorry, I’m just so excited to finally see this performance, and for you to finally meet Virgil!” He smiled sheepishly.

“It’s quite alright Patton, I should have expected such a… warm welcome. It was, pleasant, trust me, I just seem to be a bit… tired today.” Logan was eternally grateful for his voice working again.

“Ohh Lo, did you not get enough sleep last night?” Patton asked, genuine concern lacing his tone.

“Apparently not.”

“Patton?!” A voice from inside called, attracting both of their attentions. It was a kind voice, a loving voice. “Patton?!”

“Yeah mum?” Patton called back, turning inwards. The door to the office swung open, from it appeared a woman with long, thick, brown hair and kind eyes.

“Ah, there you are. I was just thinking, it’s quite late and very cold, would you rather a lift? I just finished what I’m doing so it’s not problem.”

“Oh, mum… is that definitely okay?” Patton asked.

“Of course, don’t be silly Pat. It’ll save you half an hour. Now let Logan in, he must be freezing out there.” She smiled at the boy outside, by now he was a familiar face in the household. Patton did as he was told, stepping aside and letting his friend walk in.

“Thanks mum!”

“Thank you…Julia.” Logan reluctantly used her first name, like she’d told him to many times, it felt wrong.

“No problem boys.” She smiled, before disappearing upstairs.

Logan and Patton removed their coats, then wandered into the living room, where Thomas was sitting playing video games.

“Hey there Logan!” Thomas smiled brightly. Thomas and Patton were incredibly similar in appearance, many people thought they were twins, but there were small differences. Thomas’ hair was straight, unlike Patton’s light waves, he was also slightly taller, though still not as tall as Logan.

“Evening Thomas.” Logan nodded in his direction. Logan liked Thomas, he was kind, like Patton, and he always made him feel comfortable and welcome, he’d certainly consider Thomas a friend.

“Do you guys want some hot cocoa? I was gonna make some for myself anyway.” Thomas asked, pausing his game and standing up.

“Ooh! Yes please, Logan? You want one?”

“If it’s not too much of an inconvenience.” Logan smiled somewhat shyly.

“Of course not Logan!” Thomas beamed, the way that seems unique to the Sanders.

“So Logan, how’ve you been since… a couple hours ago?”

Logan chuckled lightly. “I’ve been fine Patton, yourself?”

“I’ve been great! I’m so excited! I’ve been waiting for this for ages!” He replied cheerily.

“You do know it’s just a school play Patton, seldom are they particularly remarkable.” Logan pointed out, he was never one for theatre, he found it dull and pointless, but Roman was his friend, and it obviously meant a lot to both him and Patton.

“Well, yeah. But it’s Roman’s passion! It’s amazing to watch someone do something they love, they put their whole heart into it! And also, this will be the first time Virgil’s really put himself out of his comfort zone! I’m so proud of him, it’s been really really difficult for him recently, but he stuck with it!”

Logan couldn’t help the endeared smile that spread when he looked at Patton, he was truly proud of this kid, and genuinely excited for Roman; it was breath-taking, to see someone care so much about others. It was something that seemed absent in the time they were living in. Amongst the darkness of the world, Patton saw it, understood it, and fought it by finding light in everything, specifically people. It was remarkable to see someone so willing to help everyone, so able to see the good in them, and so happy by their success.

“I am… excited as well, to meet Virgil.” Logan admitted, causing Patton’s entire face to brighten and his smile to grow.

“Also Roman will hopefully shut up about the production after this, which will be a relief.”

***

Logan and Patton found their seats with little trouble, they were towards the left of the stage but the view was still decent. They went about placing their coats on the back of their chairs, removing scarves and gloves, Patton even decided to use his scarf as a blanket, spreading it over his legs. Patton also removed the small backpack, dropping it on the floor, but before tucking it under his chair, he pulled out two plastic bags. He held them proudly up in front of Logan, offering them to him. A packet of strawberry laces and a packet of Maltesers, which he had smuggled in.

“Patton!” Logan exclaimed. “You know you are prohibited from bringing your own food to these such events.” Logan stated, his serious eyes meeting Patton’s.

There was a beat. A moment of silence. A moment that was shattered within seconds as they both burst with laughter. Patton was delighted at, not just Logan making a joke, but also Logan laughing so freely. He usually tried to stifle his laughs, or hide his smiles, Patton couldn’t entirely figure out why just yet, especially because he found it so beautiful.

Patton chucked the packet of strawberry laces at Logan, who caught it with ease, and tore open the Maltesers. He took two and offered one to Logan, who was struggling to open the laces, Patton just laughed at his friends issues. Logan pouted, deciding to use his teeth to open the packet instead, he jerked his head to the side, satisfied when he heard and felt it tear. He looked to Patton, smiling slightly smugly, Patton returned the gaze almost dazed for a moment. They stared, not saying anything for a moment, just… looking.

“Well, aren’t you two adorable?” A voice from in front of them startled them both. “You should just kiss if you ask me?” It continued, raising in pitch slightly, accompanied by knowing eyes and a sly grin.

“Remy!” Patton cheered, Logan remained impassive.

“Hey there Pat.” Remy smiled, well it wasn’t a smile, it was more of a smirk. He leaned back slightly, he was sat in the chair in front, but had turned round, purely to antagonise them, so Logan thought.

“What’s up with you, lover boy?” He nodded towards Logan, looking at him above his sun glasses that sat midway down his nose, taking a sip of his Starbucks.

“Why are you wearing sunglasses indoors?” Logan deadpanned.

“Because it’s fashion, sweetie. Maybe if you focused a little more on that and not your boyfriend here, you wouldn’t leave the house looking like that.” Remy replied, crossing his arms and smirking.

“How are you going to see? It’s hardly practical. And Patton is not my boyfriend.” Logan replied, too confused by the boy in front of him to notice the slight flush on Patton’s cheeks, and the way he ducked his head down.

“Whatever you say, Hun.” The boy in front of him turned back around, settling comfortably into his seat, and crossing one leg over the other in an almost royal fashion.

“That, doesn’t answer my question.”

“Hush.” Remy demanded, waving one hand exaggeratedly at Logan, without turning around. 

“Well then.” Logan turned back to Patton, still highly confused. Patton opened his mouth to say something, but before he could the lights dimmed and silence fell. They turned to face the stage, Patton already beaming with excitement, Logan couldn’t help but steal glances. What? It wasn’t his fault his friend happened to be the definition of beauty, especially with that blinding smile and the glee in his eyes.

***

Virgil moved quickly while the curtains were drawn and lights were dimmed, voicelessly moving props with other people, all clad in black. Then, he swiftly and silently ran to help with the lights; they really were understaffed. Virgil hadn’t expected it to be this bad when he signed up, he thought he’d just hang around in the back, maybe mess about with some cardboard trees or something, nope. He helped with props, lighting, a bit of sound here and there, etc. Luckily it wasn’t just him at these stations, but there was still so much to focus on.

Virgil made sure the lights weren’t too bright, to prevent the lead from complaining like an entitled ass again. Really, this dude was such a diva, it set Virgil on edge, as if the thousand other things he had to do hadn’t done that already. Virgil really wasn’t sure why he signed up anymore… but then he thought of the desperation in the teachers voice and those heartbroken drama kids… he really did want to help, and backstage was perfect because then he wouldn’t have to perform… he thought. Whatever the reason, something possessed Virgil to sign up that day, a combination of factors that lead to Virgil’s feet moving of their own accord and stepping forward. And now he was here.

Virgil allowed himself a deep breath, a slight rest, he felt his pounding heart and refused to acknowledge it. He tried quickly to focus on something, something to take his mind off of the anxiety that crawled through his veins, he needed to remain focused, and he managed to fixate on one thing; the lead. He saw the boy in a light he’d never seen before, and it was captivating. Sure, Virgil knew he was a good actor, but he’d never been able to truly appreciate it. The boys movements were precise and calculated, each minor detail telling worlds about his character; the way he’d exaggerate movements massively then they’d suddenly become small and hesitant as his monologue continued. His voice was smooth and crystal clear, every deliberate breath flowed through the room, and pauses lead to complete, dead, silence. He dropped his head, running a hand through his hair, his voice broke and trembled slightly, then suddenly, he shook himself, coughed, widened his stance, stood straight, retreating back to his mask of masculinity. Virgil noticed how raw and real it seemed, how the lead easily returned to this false bravado, for fear of people seeing those shattered pieces… he wondered how much was just for the show. Virgil couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, drawn to this complex character that he was sure lurked beneath the surface. Then he realised he was overthinking, like always, after all, he wouldn’t have got the lead role if he wasn’t any good. Everything was an act, and Virgil was looking at it too deep. He shook his head, trying to shake out those thoughts, desperately returning to his previous view of…

It occurred to Virgil, right at that moment, he didn’t actually know the boy’s name. When rehearsing everyone always called him Prince, or Princey, he assumed due to his role. Maybe they didn’t know his name either. Wait, hold on, wasn’t there a guy in Patton’s year who’s second name was Prince? He was sure he’d heard it thrown around in hallways, or lunchrooms, or… somewhere.

Wherever it was, Virgil didn’t have time to ponder it any longer, as he dimmed the lights and applause roared through the room, everything buzzing back to life in a wave of appreciation. Virgil set off, back to work.

***

Roman was grinning ear to ear by the time he’d made his way out, he’d tried his very best to congratulate everyone, especially the backstage helpers and techies, he knew he was a handful to deal with, but he couldn’t help it. Acting filled him with so much energy and passion, right now he truly felt alive, like electricity was running through his veins. He was buzzing. His heart was full and he was so proud of everyone in the production. He’d made sure to hug everyone he could, before exiting to the awaiting crowd of friends and parents. There were a couple of congratulations and compliments thrown Roman’s way, to which he just beamed even brighter and thanked them, until he eventually found Patton and Logan. Patton immediately lunged for Roman, wrapping his arms around the taller’s neck. Roman laughed and hugged back tightly, burying his face in Patton’s neck.

“You were amazing Roman! I’m so proud of you! It was so so good!” Patton’s words came flooding out as he tried desperately to express what was in his heart.

“Indeed, while I may not understand theatre, I can appreciate your performance, Roman.” Logan added, standing beside them, arms stiffly by his side.

“Aww, come here Pocket Protector.” Roman laughed before grabbing Logan’s waist and pulling him into the hug. Patton was instantly pleased, removing one arm from around Roman to confine and trap Logan in their combined embrace.

Logan sighed heavily, before begrudgingly curling his arms around the pair of them. When they finally let him escape, Logan coughed slightly, then readjusted his glasses and dusted down his shirt, trying to pretend he wasn’t just attacked with hugs.

“Thank you both so much!” Roman smiled. “It really means a lot, you guys coming to see this.”

“Of course! That’s what friends are for!” Patton nodded, grinning as bright as Roman. Then, something caught Patton’s eye, a figure, standing towards the wall, through the crowd, looking a little lost. Patton’s eyes automatically attached themselves to the lonely figure, recognising it immediately. “I’ll be right back!” He declared, before speeding off.

Virgil stood outside all the crowds, looking around for Patton or his mom. He was finally meant to meet Patton’s friends, but after all his poor nerves had gone through already, Virgil was ready just to disappear. To fade into the background, like a shadow, and leave. However, just as he considered running away from his problems in favour of sleeping, a very familiar voice called out to him.

“Virgil!” Patton beamed that bright smiled of his, running over to him and instantly pulling him into a hug.

The wind was temporarily knocked out of him, but Virgil managed a quick; “Hi.”

“I’m so proud of you, kiddo! I know that must have been difficult but the show was great! Nothing went wrong, or if it did I didn’t see and that’s all that matters.” Patton had a tendency to say things all in one breath when he was excited, now was no exception.

Virgil couldn’t help but chuckle. “Calm down Pat, I didn’t do much.” Virgil lied, it was a blatant lie, after all, he’d just been complaining to himself about the amount of work he had to do, still he decided to leave that part out.

“Yes you did, don’t make me fight you!” Patton declared as he pulled away. Patton readjusted his glasses slightly, before grabbing Virgil’s hand and dragging him somewhere. “Come on, you can finally meet the guys!”

Okay, come on Virgil, you’ve been preparing for this. You can do this. Just don’t make them hate you… yeah, good plan. Dislike is okay, tolerate is better, just don’t make them hate you.

Two figures, crept closer, both looking at Patton expectantly. The met halfway, stopping and surveying each other.

Shit…that’s where I’d heard the name Prince from.

Virgil felt very small, his eyes glancing between two taller, older boys, one of which had already yelled at him a couple times. Looks like his plan of not being hated was already out the window.

“Guys, this is Virgil!” Patton, completely unaware, shone.

The lead, who was still clad in his white uniform and red sash smiled charmingly, clearly still enthused from the performance. The other offered an attempt of a smile, eyes flicking to the ground, before he straightened slightly and forced his gaze to meet Virgil’s. “Salutations, Virgil. My name’s Logan.” He stated, voice inexpressive, but Virgil could see in his eyes he was trying. Logan’s welcome may have been slightly cold, but something about it made him relax, maybe it was the way he didn’t know where to look, or the way he tried to look more presentable, but something told Virgil he wasn’t a threat.

Then, the other boy stepped forward, a clear blush painting his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I believe we may already have met, when I wrongfully accused you of misplacing a prop. My humblest apologies.” He cleared his throat and composed himself, extending his hand. “My names Roman, pleasure to properly meet you.”

Virgil took a moment to suspiciously glance at the hand, then Roman’s… aesthetically pleasing smile. Who even shakes hands? He questions to himself, before cautiously accepting.

“Err, don’t sweat it.” Virgil’s mind stumbled to find the right phrasing and somehow decided that was okay. Virgil tried desperately to keep his inward cringe subtle, and act entirely casual instead of the mess he usually was.

Roman’s smile widened at Virgil’s response, glad to have his forgiveness for acting so childishly. He very much hoped this would be a clean slate, and that there would be no more outbursts or arguments, after all, there was something about Virgil that was seemingly infectious. Roman wasn’t sure how to describe it, just sometimes you could get drawn to a person, want to learn about them, be close with them, hang out with them. Did that sound stalker-ish? He wasn’t sure, he’d only experienced this feeling once or twice. It wasn’t even out of a romantic desire, it was just… something… something that tugged at Roman’s insides, and pulled him towards Virgil.

“Virgil?” A soft voice alerted Roman to another presence. A very short woman stood behind Virgil, her brown hair, that was embossed with silver, lightly brushed her shoulders, framing her slim face. Her eyes told how exhausted she was, but still they glistened with something, pride? She was slim, with high cheekbones, pale skin and honey-hazel eyes, a clear resemblance; Virgil’s mother.

“Mom?” Virgil confirmed Roman’s thought process. She smiled, throwing her arms around him, eyes shining with tears. She whispered something Roman couldn’t quite hear, but Virgil seemed to crumble slightly; hug her a bit tighter, duck his head a bit lower.

“I really didn’t do much… or like, anything. It’s not a big deal. They’d have done fine without me.” Virgil shrugged, looking anywhere but his mother.

“Actually…” Roman stepped next to him, glancing between the anxious teen and his mother, with an almost shy smile. “…You did quite a lot. I saw you backstage, operating the lights, sound, sets, props, everything. You even dealt with me and my… eccentrics very well.” Roman’s look became slightly guilty at the last part, but he did well to hide it as he continued. “You joined us because we were understaffed, without you, the show certainly wouldn’t have gone as well as it did.” He finished.

Virgil tried to pretend Roman’s words didn’t mean a lot to him, tried to hide that little pride he felt welling up inside himself, but he couldn’t hold back that grateful smile. “It was really no big deal but, um, thanks.” Virgil conceded, letting himself express that much gratitude.

His mother was beaming; the bags under her eyes were dark, the lines on her face were deep, and her posture was tired, but she radiated pride. Virgil realised, he hadn’t seen his mom this energised in far too long. His smile widened, as did is gratefulness for Roman’s words.

“ANGIE!” The enthusiastic voice of Patton called out, only just noticing the petite woman.

“Oh, Patton sweetheart!” She cried, giggling as the boy swept her up in a hug. “I haven’t seen you in far too long, you have to come round more often!” She smiled, a bright, real smile, clearly infected by Patton’s own joy.

Patton was nodding and giggling, Roman was beaming, Angie was chuckling, even Logan off to the side had the slightest hint of smile tugging at his lips. For once, Virgil just let out a sigh, and relaxed.


	11. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton’s having second thoughts about telling Logan. He’s questioning everything, he doesn’t know what is right or wrong anymore  
> Warnings: Explicit language, self-deprecation

Patton sat on the sofa, Logan beside him, with a good space between them. A comfortable space. Patton’s leg bounced constantly as he tapped his feet, anxiously. He knew it was annoying, but he couldn’t stop himself. He kept his eyes trained on his wrists, one hand reflexively picking at the bandages. His mind was too far away to stop himself. How does he tell Logan everything? How does he expand on everything he’d already said?

How did he tell Logan that too much was going on in his head? Because whenever he even thought about leaving Mike, thinking that maybe Mike is wrong, maybe their relationship is wrong… he starts thinking of the times he’d lie in bed with him, snuggled together, like nothing ever mattered. He’d start thinking of the first time they’d met, when Mike’s piercing blue eyes locked onto his, and they just sparkled. He’d pulled his hair back into the most adorable bun, and smiled in that way that showed his “mini fang,” as Patton called it. Mike had, quite shamelessly, flirted at Patton while ordering his coffee, and Patton couldn’t help but be entirely charmed, and as a result, had written his number on Mike’s coffee. He wasn’t entirely sure what possessed him that day, what had made Mike stand out from the crowd, but something had captivated him. Patton thought of their first date, how they’d gone to a movie, something not very memorable or even good, but the tickets were still in Patton’s room. They had both walked there, and almost as soon as the movie had finished, rain suddenly pounded down onto the Earth below, Mike had looked at him with a wild smile, then grabbed his hand and pulled him into the darkness. They ran through the rain, Patton had no idea where they were going, they were just sprinting and laughing and panting, all while the rain splattered against his glasses and plastered his clothing to his body, his hair to his head. Eventually, Mike had stopped outside a door, a door that turned out to be his door. He made Patton some hot chocolate and drove him home at some ungodly hour. Patton thought of all the looks they shared, those hugs for no reason, the nights of comfortable silence, the kisses in the rain, the comfort in the darkness. He thought of everything. There was so much, so much he loved, so much they’d shared, it couldn’t mean nothing. They could work through this. This was stupid. He’s scared Logan for no reason. He’s given him the wrong idea. He’d hate Mike. He was a terrible boyfriend. He’d lied to Mike. He’d betrayed him. Mike loved him. Mike cared about him. And all Patton could do was this. Patton was wrong. He should feel guilt. Feel guilty. Feel guilty. Worthless. He’s right. He was always right. I deserved it. Deserved everything.

No.

Patton let out a breath, then breathed in, held it, let it out, repeated. If he was thinking that he deserved those insults, those disgusting labels, something was wrong. He thought about if this was Logan, what he would do if Logan came to him with cuts littering his arms and bruises on his wrist… but Patton didn’t have to imagine. Patton remembered the scar on Logan’s side, remembered those bruises on his arm, the split lips, the broken glasses held together by Sellotape. Patton knew he wasn’t at that level, that he had no right comparing the hell Logan went through to what he felt… but he couldn’t shake that memory of helplessness and dismay that spread about his body. He wondered if that’s what Logan felt now?

Patton looked to Logan with desperation. He couldn’t describe anything. Everything he felt was confusing and overwhelming. He wanted everything to go back to before, but he wasn’t sure before what. Before the other night, before the time when those late night talks turned to arguments, before he grew scared to return home, before he became paranoid about time. Did he want to go back to those first months of dating Mike, when everything felt so much… better? Or was it further back? Before he’d met Mike, before he’d been isolated from his friends, before he wasn’t allowed to go out for drinks with them. Was that what he wanted?

Patton didn’t want Mike out of his life, he wanted to stick together, for it to all fall back into place, he wanted to pull through. But also, Patton knew, he didn’t love Mike, not anymore, he couldn’t. Not after everything he’d gone through. 

But was it everything? Have I really experienced anything? Are a couple arguments worth giving up and wasting the time we’d spent together? I’m overreacting.

Patton groaned, removing his glasses and burying his head in his hands. He didn’t love Mike. He couldn’t hide from that. Whatever the reason, justified or not, he just didn’t love him. But, he still cared, and he still didn’t want him out of his life, because that felt like giving up on him. It also felt terrifying. Patton had no idea how Mike would take it if he left him. He could cry, it could shatter his heart, and he’d look up at Patton with those pleading blue eyes. Or he could scream, yell, shout, maybe he’d purposely throw glass this time, maybe he’d do something worse. There was no telling what he would do, that hurt Patton, but that also scared him.

Patton’s mind went back, thinking about the nights he’d been in late, or the nights he’d stayed up to text Virgil, the one time he’d gone shopping with Roman or met up with Logan, they seemed so long ago. Seeing them had made him so happy. What had happened to that happiness? Why was it so unachievable? Something as simple as seeing his best friends after work had been taken from him, that wasn’t okay. He couldn’t let anyone do that. If he was looking for happiness in something so mundane as texting a friend… was his life really that sad?

All the names suddenly came back to Patton in a flash. Labels. Titles. Whatever. They all, out of nowhere, seemed to crash down on him at full force. Perhaps it was the process of analysing Mike, analysing the nature of their relationship, but now all he could think of were those words Mike had spat at him. Those phrases laced with venom and disgust. Patton had tried to ignore them before, tried to not think much of them, tried to blame it on the drink. He didn’t mean it, so therefore it doesn’t matter. It’s not him. It’s not his fault.

Worthless.

Slut.

Moron.

Pathetic.

Whore.

Useless

Selfish.

Scum.

For once, Patton let himself admit it, it hurt. Being called those names, with such conviction and aggression, with such belief, hurt so much. He could try and pretend it didn’t, but that was getting old. Patton only now realised he was beginning to believe every title forced on him. He felt the weight of the words hit him as if he’d just heard them for the first time, and suddenly thousands of bricks were crashing around him, on him, trapping him, killing him. Had he just been holding them in place before? Where the bricks already loose? Were they just waiting to fall? Waiting for Patton to release them, relish them, analyse them. Because the more he thought back, the more words attacked him. But, he couldn’t fight the facts hidden in those awful words. Patton was all those things, he had to be, drunk or not, there was always so much belief in Mike’s voice when he said them. Patton could recall with crystal clarity the look of sheer hatred glowing in Mike’s eyes every time he’d uttered those words.

Worthless.

Slut.

Moron.

Pathetic.

Whore.

Useless.

Selfish

Scum.

They had to be true. Mike loved him, loved him for his flaws, but these were his flaws, it wasn’t Mike’s fault they were so massive. Look at him now, playing the victim, trying to hurt Mike, he was being selfish. He must have been. He should be thinking about Mike’s feeling through all of this, but he wasn’t. All of this for what? Because he wanted attention? That must be it. Patton had just convinced himself it wasn’t, but his true intentions were attention, must be.

Patton took a deep breath again, turning towards Logan. Logan was his reminder. Take a step back. Think objectively. Analyse the facts not your opinions, what have you done to warrant what Mike’s done?

He had wanted to hang out with friends. That’s okay. Mike has a persecution complex so it hurt him a lot when Patton did that. Patton should have thought about how Mike felt… but he also needed to consider how he felt, and going to see his friends should be perfectly reasonable. Coming home late was bad. That was Patton’s fault. That made the yelling justified… but he was only ten minutes late, it wasn’t that bad. So maybe Mike wasn’t justified? But it’s not Mike’s fault he makes these connections and jumps to these conclusions, Patton should have known this would have happened… but maybe that doesn’t make Mike’s reaction justified, may that just makes it understandable? Patton looked down at his bandages again. Mike hadn’t meant to do that… but he’d meant to hurt him. He’d meant to throw the pan at him, he’d wanted to hurt him. But he’d apologised, it was his anger, so that makes it okay… does it? Patton then thought about everything else, the disregard for his consent, the disregard for his opinion, everything. The times Patton had triggered something, the reasoning for an outburst. He tried to reason everything. It wasn’t easy. He kept doubting himself, thinking up ways to excuse Mike, but deep down Patton knew he couldn’t. He opened his mouth to tell Logan of this mental task, try to begin to explain, but he still couldn’t find the right words.

He felt drained, entirely and utterly fatigued. He closed his mouth and instead rested his head on Logan’s shoulder. Logan stiffened for a second, freezing up in place like Patton was a wild animal, and if he so much as breathed the marvellous creature would scurry away.

“Life’s complicated, Logan.” Patton stated, his voice quiet, solemn.

“I know it is,” Logan sighed, reassuringly petting the other’s pale brown waves. “But… I’ll always be here if you need me, as will Roman and Virgil. We’re going to help you get through this. No matter what course of action you take from here, we will be with you, and we will support you.”

Those words really did mean so much to Patton, on any other occasion those words would have brought him to tears… but right now he was so very exhausted, and Logan’s hands felt so good threading through his hair, that he just closed his eyes.

“I’ve missed you, Lo.” Patton admitted, finally blocking out every other sound, other than Logan’s deep calming voice and even breathing.

“…I missed you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We had fluff last time, we need more angst to "balance" it out


	12. Just A Couple Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Virgil’s birthday, the day he dreads all year round, but this year, he has friends who are insistent on making this his best birthday yet… unfortunately others don’t share their enthusiasm   
> Warnings: Explicit language, swearing, violence, mentions of attempted suicide, blood

Virgil stared up at his ceiling, contemplating the passage of time. He grabbed his phone, letting the artificial light temporarily blind him, before noting how late it was.

Seven minutes to twelve.

Seven minutes.

Seven minutes to his birthday, until he is officially one year older. He felt his anxiety spike again. His birthday only reminded him of time, and his time was running out. He was reminded of the exams to come. The colleges and universities to apply to. He was reminded of the future he had to know. Everything was changing. He’d lose everyone. Or they’d lose him. Virgil was younger, in the year below everyone else, they’d be leave him behind. Patton was off to work, to travel with his brother. Logan would be studying at some advanced university. Roman had a scholarship to a prestigious performing arts course. Virgil would be stuck here, going nowhere, entirely alone, for a year. He couldn’t even think of where he’d be in two years, he had no idea what he wanted. Creative writing was always an option, but what if he wasn’t good enough for the course? What if he never found what he wanted to do? He felt his insides twist around themselves as he thought about fading from his friends lives, about them forgetting him.

Think logically, he told himself in Logan’s voice. He’d figure out what he wanted to do eventually. He didn’t have to know now. His exams were ages away, there was nothing he could do for them now. No matter what, Patton would always stay in contact with him. Besides, his friends were still here, they weren’t leaving until next September, he didn’t have to say goodbye just yet.

He still had time.

He felt some pressure release. Sometimes, he was able to think reasonably, and he was greatly appreciated Logan’s help in that. This was a only a momentary peace, but so long as he kept reminding himself of facts, he could avoid a full blown panic attack. So he clung to these moments; the way Logan had told him to.

He thought of Logan. Although cold, and almost emotionless at first, Virgil couldn’t help but feel calm about him. Logan was honest, and that was reassuring. He was responsible, in a way he was like Patton, he seemed to always know what exact thing he needed: a bit tired? He’d buy Virgil a coffee. Exhausted and running off barely any food or drink? Absolutely no coffee, lots of water, some food. On the verge of a panic attack? Calm, assured, reasoning. Full on panic attack? Patton. It was funny, how well Logan and Patton complimented each other. They were polar opposites, yet worked well together, and it wasn’t as if Virgil didn’t notice how Patton perked up that bit more, or would sit that little bit closer, to Logan. It was adorable, really.

Virgil found himself and Logan agreeing a lot on things, and Logan actually understood him pretty well. Virgil thought about how before, he’d only ever been fully comfortable around Patton, he assumed it was because he’d known Patton for so long, yet he and Logan seemed to have some kind of unspoken bond. He was comfortable with Logan, and Logan with him.

Buzz.

Virgil jolted violently as his phone went off, he grabbed it and once again allowed himself to be glared at by the bright light. Squinting, he noticed the time, and panic struck again.

Twelve.

It was officially his birthday.

Virgil’s eyes scanned the rest of his screen, seeing a notification from Roman there.

Now that was an odd one. Virgil remembered, vividly, the hatred he had felt for Roman the night before the play: his arrogance was frustrating, he was always obnoxiously loud, and was extremely stressful to deal with. Virgil had hated him… and then they’d met, and his eyes had glistened brightly, and his smile had tugged slightly more to one side, and he’d hated how that’d made him feel. He’d hated how easily he’d accepted the compliments and charisma. Hated how instantly he’d felt okay in his presence. And then, Virgil had really started hanging out with Roman, and they’d argue over every little thing. Virgil chuckled thinking back to just yesterday.

“Virgil, you can’t call me a nerd if you are arguing in defence of Star Wars.”

“Yes I can if you’re arguing for Star Trek, nerd.”

“Star Trek is infinitely better than Star Wars!” Roman argued back, enthusiastically waving his hands around.

“No, it’s not! Star Wars has an actual plot, a well-developed plot! Star Trek, they went back in time to save a whale, w-“ Virgil was promptly cut off by the boy in front of him.

“Yes, and it was magnificent!” Roman decided passionately. “It’s light-hearted, engaging, touches on some important and complex themes, and showcases a diverse cast!”

“Okay sure, especially for the time.” Virgil admitted. “I’ll give you that. But, it’s still nothing compared to Star Wars.”

“Just because Han Solo’s hot…” Roman mumbled, faking a pout and crossing his arms.

Virgil dramatically placed a hand on his heart, looking offended. “Roman, how dare you assume I’m as shallow as you… besides Ewan McGregor’s hotter.” He grinned.

Roman chuckled, nodding his head rapidly. “You’ve got me there, plus that man can sing.” Roman said dreamily.

“I know, Moulin Rouge is actually my favourite film.”

Roman’s eyes went wide and locked onto Virgil, he wasn’t sure if he was this happy because someone else appreciated Ewan McGregor’s singing, or because it was Virgil appreciating any kind of singing… actually that’s a lie, it was entirely because it was Virgil.

“Oh my-“ Roman cut himself off by wrapping his arms around Virgil. Virgil couldn’t help tensing up slightly, but he quickly relaxed, smirking a bit.

“Okay, whatever, you win this debate, just because you said a MUSICAL is your favourite film!” Virgil laughed at Roman, and was fairly sure Patton was fangirling in the background.

Roman pulled back, but clasped his hands on Virgil’s shoulders firmly. “ We need to watch it together.”

Virgil pretended as if he was considering it, when really, he’d already decided.

“Hmm…”

“Please, please, please!”

“I don’t know, I quite like watching you beg.” He smirked, while internally, he was freaking out.

Roman’s eyes widened, but allowed his lips to twist upwards. He seemed at a loss for words, which was unusual. Their eye contact lasted longer that perhaps it should, and Roman’s smile became more of a smirk every moment, maybe Virgil had actually said something right for once?

“Alright then Princey, I’ll watch it with you… if you bring the snacks.” Roman cheered at that response.

Virgil smiled at the memory, unlocking his phone and reading his friend’s message.

Sir Sing-a-lot: Happy birthday my favourite Emo Nightmare! I may have only known you for a month or two, and we may have had our disagreements (Goblet of Fire is still the best Harry Potter book,) but I’m still so glad I have met you. Now, I’m not entirely sure what I’d do without your cynical comments. So, celebrate this fine day, and I’ll see you soon Hot Topic xx

Virgil’s heart felt weird, and his pulse was going insane, but it wasn’t panic, he felt warm? He felt… loved, and appreciated, and... he had no idea how to respond to that.

Me: Wow Princey, I didn’t know you actually cared this much… thanks, see you soon x

It took Virgil a solid three minutes to send because he was kept deleting and then adding the ‘x’ but, eventually, he left it and he hit send.

Sir Sing-a-lot: Of course I care, Virge. Now get some rest

Me: You too Roman

Virgil closed his phone and looked up at the ceiling again, his heart a bit lighter, everything feeling a bit warmer. He drifted to sleep at around 1:04, but that was good for Virgil.

***

Virgil immediately pulled his hood over his face when he reached the lunch table, his friends singing chirpily and far too loud.

“No, please. Stop.” Virgil cut them all off, causing them to giggle. He already thought the whole canteen was judging them, he didn’t need more attention.

“Okay, okay, only so we can get to the presents quicker!” Patton exclaimed.

“Presents?”

“Yes! Presents!” Patton practically squealed in response.

“You didn’t have to get me anyt-“ Virgil began but was interrupted.

“Nonsense!” Roman smiled. “Now on with it!” He declared, crossing one leg over the other as Virgil sat opposite him.

Patton clapped excitedly, diving into his bag and pulling out an envelope, and two package wrapped in pale blue with a silver ribbon. Virgil first opened the envelope, cautiously slipping his finger under the flap and neatly tearing it open. The cream material had hidden a hand drawn card stating; “ur fam” on one side and “ily” on the inside, next to a picture of all four of them. All of them had signed, the handwriting varying from an elegant calligraphy to a barely legible, excited scribble.

Virgil let out a slight laugh. “Thanks guys.”

“Open them. Open them. Open them.” Patton chanted excitedly, bouncing from his seat. Virgil chuckled and complied. He opened the smaller one first, carefully pulling at the ribbon and unpicking the neat wrapping.

“Wow…” Virgil gasped as he examined his gift. It was a black, leather-bound journal, with the word “thoughts” etched into the centre, and a black string enclosing it. Virgil excitedly opened it, a shocked expression still plastering his face. The paper was high quality, cream, and the lines were slightly faded; perfect.

“Patton… thank y-“

“Just wait till you see the next one! I’m most proud of that!” Patton beamed.

Virgil, still surprised and entirely grateful, reached for the other gift. As soon as Virgil saw the present, he’d leapt up and thrown his arms around Patton.

“I hope you like it!” Patton smiled kindly.

“I love it.” Virgil’s voice was muffled by Patton’s shoulder, and when he pulled back he wiped his eyes quickly. Patton had given him a sleek black frame, the picture inside was of a smiling Patton, his glasses reflecting the sun and his hair a wild unkempt mess of waves. Virgil was laughing, looking down, his hair neatly cut, for once. In between them both, smiling, practically glowing like the sun, was Virgil’s grandmother, her arms around both of them. Virgil wasn’t sure what they were laughing at, but he remembered the feeling; he had been laughing so much his stomach hurt, smiling so much his face ached, he’d felt so happy, so… accepted, and proud.

“Thank you… so much.” Virgil almost whispered, pulling away and staring at the photo.

“You’re very welcome, kiddo!”

Logan coughed awkwardly, drawing Virgil’s attention. “Mine is far less… well…”

“I’m sure it’s great Logan, I really didn’t expect you to get me anything in the first place.” The smaller reassured.

Logan’s smile was so quick Virgil was almost convinced he’d imagined it. He handed over his present, almost nervously. Taking great care again, Virgil peeled back the suspiciously Christmassy wrapping paper, to reveal a pair of large, black, cordless headphones.

His eyes flew wide, his head jerking up. “Holy shi-“ He cut himself off in shock, seeing Logan holding out something else; a gift card.

“I know you’re prone to… moments of extreme alarm.” Logan began, not entirely sure how to word what he wanted to say, which was weird for him. “I thought these noise-cancelling headphones may help.” He continued matter-of-factly. Virgil just nodded, still in awe as he took the giftcard.

“And that’s so you can buy some audiobooks, that might help you calm down.”

“Logan I… That’s really thoughtful, thank you.” Virgil replied sincerely, his eyes flickering from the gift to Logan, before finally deciding and tentatively wrapping his arms around Logan. Logan hesitated before hugging back, in a manner that was confused at first.

“You’re very huggy today, J-Delightful.”

“Shut up. I’m allowed.” Virgil mumbled, pulling away.

He sat back down in his seat, surrounded by wrapping and presents. He couldn’t fight the soft smile that graced his way onto his lips. Roman handed him his gift from across the table, grinning brightly.

For the final time, Virgil carefully pulled apart the wrapping, revealing a soft black material. He titled his head in confusion, before holding it up. The mysterious material unfolded to reveal a black hoody, embossed with plaid purple patches, white stitches, and a thunder cloud.

“Pat helped me with some of the design choices. I hope you like it!” Roman beamed.

“Wait, you made this?!” Virgil exclaimed.

“Yep!” He responded brightly. “Now come on, try it on!” He urged as he stood up.

Virgil quickly shucked off his black hoody and replaced it with the new one. The material was soft and comforting, it pooled around his wrists and fell past his hips. He held his arms out, examining it further and discovering zips on the sleeve, Virgil grinned. Every part of the hoody was planned out and considered entirely dependent on Virgil, it was literally made for him, and it was perfect.

“Roman this… wow, it’s so soft. Thanks!” He smiled, eyes darting across the table, he was confused when he didn’t meet Roman’s green ones. He turned to find his friend standing in front of him, arms flung out wide.

“My turn!” He grinned. Virgil laughed, but complied, allowing himself to be enveloped by Roman’s arms. The taller leaned back slightly so Virgil’s feet were lifted off the ground, the grip around him tightening in response, but the movement barely startled Virgil, he just laughed into the other’s shoulder.

Roman put Virgil back down and removed his arms, hands ghosting over his hip.

Virgil was elated. He was so happy, he could feel tears pricking the back of his eyes. As he sat amongst all the unwarranted gifts, a part of him wanted to hug them all again. He’d never liked presents, he liked birthdays even less, but this was different. Everyone had thought so much about these things, put so much time and effort and care into it, hell, Roman had HANDMADE his git. They weren’t forced out of obligation, they got him something meaningful, and he was indescribably grateful, if a little guilty. He couldn’t help that knowing feeling in the pit of stomach, that he’d made his friend’s do that, he’d made them waste time and money on him… but at that moment, he couldn’t help the happiness brought from the love he felt. Virgil pressed his palms to his eyes gently, trying not to wipe off his eyeshadow while wiping his tears. He knew it was pathetic but, he hadn’t felt like this in so long. Felt like he was cared for, by people who didn’t have to care for him. His friend’s weren’t forced to be there due to blood, they chose to be there, for some strange reason, but he wouldn’t question why. Not now at least. Not after such a good day. For once, his birthday brought genuine happiness.

“Oh look, it’s that little freaks birthday.” 

Spoke too soon.

A voice recognised to be Louis, called from behind him. Virgil visibly tensed, his eyes training intently on the table, hands balling into fists, body slowly beginning to close in on himself.

Logan had flinched as he turned to face the group with a cold, hard stare. Patton was entirely focused on Virgil, worry flaring bright in his eyes as he saw the glaze in Virgil’s own, his entire body stiffened. Roman, on the other hand, was clearly working hard to contain himself. His fists were balled, knuckles turning white, jaw set, eyes livid. If looks could kill Louis would be dead where he stood.

“Nice jacket, faggot.” Virgil shut his eyes.

“You've finally found a group as fucked up as you? That’s pretty difficult.” Logan opened his mouth to say something, but James beat him to it.

“Why not just try and kill yourself again? Second times a charm, y’know?”

Screech. Roman’s chair flew backwards, falling over dramatically. He stood in between the group and their view of Virgil, his eyes still murderous, but also controlled, calculated.

“Got a problem, Prince?” James spat, stepping closer.

“Yes, actually. You’re my problem. You and your disgusting mindset.”

“You’re one to talk about disg-“

“Come up with a new joke, that one got old. Quickly. Oh wait, you can’t, you’re too stupid to comprehend anything past your limited vocabulary.” Roman retorted.

“What, the fuck, did you just say to me?” James demanded, people clasped at his shoulder, holding him back.

“Oh, not just you. All of you. This entire group put together probably still wouldn’t have a single brain cell. No wonder you’re all failing. I look forward to seeing you guys serving me across McDonalds and gas stations in the future, considering that’s all you’ll amount to.” Roman continued, desperately trying to prod the bear.

“Watch your mouth, fag.” James growled, the hands holding him back growing weaker.

“Make me, coward.” Roman bit back, a smirk playing at his lips.

Like a flash, a fist slammed into Roman’s jaw, with so much force he fell to the floor. He heard the others stand up, but he couldn’t let them help him, they couldn’t interfere. He took two deep breaths, forcing himself up, desperate to ignore the pain and throwing on a smirk for good measure, striding towards the group, a copper-ish taste filling his mouth.

“Did your parents not teach you violence is never the answer? Well, actually, it wouldn’t surprise me if they hadn’t.” He smirked.

“What are you saying, asshole?” Roman knew he was going too far, he knew he should be better than them, but he needed this to end.

“I’m saying, your behaviour suggests something’s wrong at home. Don’t worry, I get it. Daddy not hug you enough?”

“Alright, that’s it.” James snarled, Roman had clearly touched a nerve. Good.

Roman felt James’ hand tighten around his collar, pulling him into the centre of the group. He was pushed roughly against Louis, who happily held him up, circling his arm’s under Roman’s.

Already there was a crowd, drawn in by the promise of violence. Like wild animals, they were drawn to blood. Virgil, Logan and Patton had somehow gotten trapped on the outside of the circle, helpless behind yelling and cheering children. Why were there never enough teacher’s on duty?

A fist smashed into Roman’s face and he could feel his entire body crumple with the impact, almost like he was short circuiting. He knew the arms circling him were the only things holding him up. He’d squeezed his eyes shut from the impact, biting back a cry of pain. He felt warm blood trickled down the side of his temple. A force jolted him, forcing him to turn his head and look back at his attacker.

He snapped his eyes open, spitting out the blood, making no attempt to fight back. Another hit. This one more to his nose, the impact causing a shot of sharp, unbearable, pain.

“Ahh.” He couldn’t stop the pained exclamation. He was focusing too much on holding back the heavy threat of tears stinging the back of his eyes.

“Look at me, fag.” A voice yelled, it might have been James, but he wasn’t sure. When Roman refuse to follow the order, the owner of the voice yanked his hair harshly, causing Roman to wince. Roman’s eyes jumped to two things; first the clock, then his friends. Through the sea of people, he could see their movements, see them pushing to reach him, but no one let them pass. Somehow, through the havoc, for a split second, Roman’s eyes met Virgil’s. He looked terrified, with the very little time he had, he tried to seem calm, willed his eyes to tell him not to worry. He hoped he understood. James yanked his hair again, pulling him down to eye-level.

“Kinky.” Roman flashed him a bloody smile. The other boy’s face heated, his cheeks puffing out, he said nothing as he pulled backwards, removed his hand, and punched Roman in the stomach. All air was knocked out of him and Louis let him fall to the floor. He lay on there, pain shooting through his nerve endings, heart racing, lungs empty, gulping for anything. It was like there was too much to process. The roar and cheers were consuming until finally, they were silenced by a shrill, piercing voice. He could feel the presence run in immediately between him and the group.

“Stop this! Stop this instant!” Miss Fitch; the one time she’s late.

And now, was Roman’s time to shine.

He started coughing loudly, a few sounds a pain escaping as he did. He tried to push himself off the ground but his arms shook and collapsed. He let out some sort of agonised whimper and allowed his body to shake. Virgil quickly appeared at Roman’s side, helping him sit up, Patton and Logan not far behind him.

He saw the group around him stiffen, unsure of how to react to the figure of authority in front of them. “Explain yourselves!” She snapped, glaring at each of them individually.

“Self de-“

“Don’t even try that! Roman just decides to attack all of you at once? I don’t think so. Principles office. Now!” She commanded before speaking rapidly into a walkie-talkie to other members of staff, while the group begrudgingly, and somewhat confused, walked to the office.

As the others walked off, Virgil pulled Roman into his arms, inspecting his injuries as best he could.

“My hero…” Roman muttered as Virgil carefully helped him to his feet and the crowd around them dispersed.

“Roman, will you be able to get to the nurses office yourself?” Miss Fitch asked, Roman nodded. “Good, I need to deal with them. Don’t worry, the school will do all it can to stop this from happening again, I’ll need you to fill out an incident report form at some point though.” Roman nodded again. “Alright.” She began striding off, barely hiding a tight-lipped smile. “Oh, and your parents will be notified as soon as possible.” She called nonchalantly over her shoulder.

Great.

As soon as she disappeared from sight, Roman forced himself to flash the others a bright, if slightly bloody, smile.

“Roman, are yo-“

“I’m fine, Virgil.” He wheezed slightly.

“You really don’t look it.” Logan interjected.

“Yeah kiddo…” Patton’s voice was filled with concern, Roman felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. “What happened back there?”

Roman attempted a shrug but it didn’t really work, given he was being held up by Virgil. “I couldn’t let him say those things. But if I hit him I’d get in trouble.” Roman stated as if it was an obvious fact.

“Wait, so you planned on getting beaten up?” Virgil was seriously questioning Roman’s sanity.

“Well, not badly.” Roman winced slightly as he tried to move, his head was still loud and roaring. Pounding. “But I remembered what Logan and I talked about once. Nothings ever gonna change, not unless-“

“-They get caught red handed.” Logan finished.

“Exactly. Miss Fitch won’t let this go lightly, she’s probably the most well-respected and reliable teacher at this school, they’re not gonna ignore her for a bunch of delinquents. Besides, this is the opportunity teachers dream of: Rescue a helpless student, get rid of a difficult student, and have air-tight proof.” Roman stated, his words slightly forced and breathy, but he needed to say these things. He pointed upwards to a security camera with an innocently blinking red light. “Despite what I said, James and his friends aren’t stupid, they know its… risky, to start a fight here. I just needed to make them mad enough they’d forget their common sense.”

“I… I hate to say I’m impressed.” Logan admitted. “It was… disagreeable, but there is an unfortunate amount of logic behind it.”

“There is no way you came up with that on the spot.”

“It was a vaguely planned idea I’d imagined, but never actually thought about implementing it. Seemed too farfetched. Besides, my pride wasn’t worth it. But, the stuff they said… before I knew it, I was on the floor.” Roman finished, his voice hoarse.

“That was fucking stupid, man. Look at you! I am not worth this.” Virgil argued, genuinely mad at Roman for being so reckless when it came to his own health.

Roman jolted his head upwards, affronted and holding back a wince at the sudden movement. He opened his mouth to defend Virgil’s worth, but the angry teen just cut him off.

“Shut up, dumbass. You’re going to the nurse.”

***

The nurse was in shock when she first saw Roman; bloody, bruised and voice hoarse. It didn’t look good. However, once she’d cleaned off the dried blood and plastered up a couple places, she was relieved to discover there was no bone damage or heavy structural damage: Roman’s nose was in tact, his lip was only slightly swollen and his wound on his temple wasn’t deep. He’d bruise, but he’d heal. The only other issue was his arms, he’d managed to land on it when he fell, still not too much damage but she ordered him to hold an ice pack over it. Virgil leaned against the wall near the doorway, still glaring at Roman: he was so worried and relieved and scared and pissed as hell. He wasn’t sure who he was mad at though. Roman for getting himself hurt? James for hurting him? Or himself for not doing anything? All were equally good picks.

The nurse held another ice pack to Roman’s lip, causing the swelling to reduce. Once satisfied she moved the ice pack around in her hands, then placed it to the cut on Roman’s temple, just above his eye. There had been a thick, heavy silence in the room, until another teacher poked her head through the door.

“Oh, uh, sorry-“ Began the older woman, looking between the three with wide eyes. “-It’s just, Mel, if you could, we need your-“

“-Don’t worry, I’ll be there in a second.” The nurse smiled kindly. “I’m going to deal with this, Virgil, can you hold the ice pack?” She asked, turning to Virgil and offering him the ice pack.

“I can do tha-“

“No. Keep pressure on that wrist.” The nurse firmly told Roman. Virgil took the nurse’s spot as she rushed out to deal with… whoever’d just thrown up.

There was silence between them. Pounding against their ears. Virgil refused to look at Roman’s desperately pleading eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Roman said, genuinely.

Virgil sighed, all anger he had leaving him in an instant. “It’s alright.” He replied, reluctantly. “I don’t… it was really nice you stood up for me, I do appreciate that. I just, I don’t want you to get hurt Ro, least of all because of me. I was so worried.”

“I know, I know but, I don’t want you to get hurt either, Virge.” Roman’s voice was honest and serious, Virgil wasn’t sure he’d heard him like this before, without a hint of bravado or humour. “What they said wasn’t right. It wasn’t okay. I couldn’t stand seeing the way you tensed up. They’d crossed a line, and getting beaten up will be worth it when they get expelled.” Roman said, determined.

Virgil sighed heavily again. He’d been so worried about Roman he’d almost forgotten those stinging words.

Why not just try and kill yourself again?

He winced. Now they knew. They probably knew already. Lots of people did. But lots of people didn’t as well. It’s funny how gossip travels, some people get left out entirely. But now they knew. Roman and Logan.

“I… I know a lot of people know me as the kid that attempted suicide.” The words rolled off his tongue without his permission, he looked down, trying to escape his own mouth. “I know that’s why I get those looks, even after two years, that’s all they see me as. Either someone to pity, or the punchline of a joke. But, it was different with you and Lo. I thought, maybe you didn’t know, maybe you didn’t have to. Maybe you’d see me for who am I, not what I’d tried to do.”

“Virgil…” Roman spoke softly, bringing a hand up under the other’s chin.

“You need to keep pressure on your-“

“Virgil.” Roman cut him off, forcing the other boy to look in his eyes. “…I’ll admit I’d known of someone who’d tried, I hadn’t known it was you. But, just because I know now, doesn’t make me see you any differently. I know who you are Virgil; you are loyal, kind-hearted, intelligent, fiercely witty and highly sarcastic… with a tendency to hiss at people. You are also strong. I’ve always known this. It doesn’t change now I know what you’ve overcome.”

“Thanks Roman… and thank you for being a complete fucking moron, in order to protect me. Honestly, where would I be without my Prince?” Virgil smirked, trying to lighten the sombre mood, but also feeling genuine gratitude.

Roman chuckled, hand still under Virgil’s chin, eyes flickering to his lips. It wasn’t until that moment, Virgil realised how close the two were to each other, and how the gap seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, until there wasn’t a gap and their eyes were shut.

It was the smallest sensation, the lightest warmth on their lips. It wasn’t like the films, there were no fireworks, or butterflies, or elongated make outs that had a cold falsity to them. None of that. But there was something. Something tugging at Roman’s gut. Something deep, but light. Something real.

It wasn’t what was on TV, it was just two nervous kids with no idea what they were doing, and that was so much better.

They pulled away, Roman’s lips stinging slightly from where he’d been hit. He blinked, then reattached their lips again, only for a moment. It was still shy, soft, and fleeting, but it still meant so much.

“Roman.” A voice jolted the boys backwards. “Pressure on your wrist.” The nurse smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an obsession with Moulin Rouge, it's a problem... like it comes up ten more times... but hey, prinxiety! Yay!


	13. You Can Count On Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman and Virgil come round to comfort Patton. After some Steven Universe, Patton falls asleep, leaving prinxiety to watch the sunset together and Logan left to pine over how cute Patton is.  
> Warnings: Panic attacks… I think that’s it. Oh and swearing (thanks Virgil)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we’re drawing near to the end, only three chapters left. But, that is not the end, I still have a lot planned for these bois, I was thinking of doing “lost chapters” just to fill in some gaps about Lo and Ro, maybe some for Virgil, and expand on the Logicality, but now I’m considering some mini sequels, so we’ll see!

Roman and Virgil locked eyes for a moment, sharing a look of pure worry and concern. They stood in front of Patton’s pale blue door, waiting for it to open. Roman could hear his blood rushing through his body, the thuds of his pounding heart echoing against his ears. Logan’s text buzzed across his brain; Come to Patton’s. Please hurry, it’s an emergency.

The door opened; it didn’t creep open, slowly, nor did it swing open dramatically. It just opened. It wasn’t what either of them were expecting. Logan appeared behind it, his usual stonily impassive expression had softened slightly, he looked solemn, and almost sad. With the door open, the couple could see past Logan and into the room beyond, a figure sat crumpled over on the brown leather couch. The figure- Patton- had his face in his hands, glasses pushed up into his hair. Virgil, without really realising it, walked hesitantly into the house, eyes perceptively trained on Patton, his mind racing. Patton perked up at Virgil’s soft footsteps, he turned towards the movement, pulling his glasses down and offered a small, half-hearted smile. Virgil’s heart shattered; Patton’s face was blotchy, his eyes bloodshot, his eyelashes wet and clumped together.

“Patton.” Virgil gasped, feeling tears prick the back of his eyes too, he ran and launched himself at his friend, engulfing him in a hug. Patton giggled but the sound was empty, he returned Virgil’s embrace, wrapping his arms around him tightly, pulling him closer and burying his face in a hoody-clad shoulder.

Roman remained lingering in the doorway, shutting the door behind him but without taking his eyes off Patton. He watched his boyfriend and his best friend hug, while his insides felt like they were tearing themselves apart. He turned and shared a concerned glance with Logan.

“I’m afraid it’s worse than we thought. I know we expected Mike to be emotionally manipulative… I don’t think we quite appreciated the scale the abuse.” Logan spoke softly, sadly, almost guiltily. Roman’s eyes shot back to Patton, still hugging Virgil, he noticed the slight shaking, the bandages on his wrists, he felt guilt well up in the pit of his stomach. Why had they not noticed it sooner? Why had they done nothing? Why had they allowed Patton to get hurt?

Logan placed a reassuring hand on Roman’s shoulder, seeming to hear his swarming thoughts, or perhaps he was just far too familiar with them. The two wandered forward, Logan settling down next to Patton, Roman sitting cross-legged in front of him. Virgil removed himself from Patton, sitting on the arm of the sofa and grabbing his hand, Logan held the other, he was surrounded by support. He felt safe. He felt loved.

“What’s up, padre?” Roman asked lovingly, his voice kind and smooth.

Patton sighed, looking between his friends, eyes lingering on Logan silently asking for help.

“It’s okay Patton.” Logan squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to go into any detail, I can take over whenever you need.”

“Okay.” Patton breathed again. Why was his heart beating so fast? He’d done this before. It may have ended with a panic attack but he’d done it. Surely it’s easier the second time around. He was breathing too quick, he knew that. The words were going to get caught in his throat again, he knew that. His tongue ensnared and words held captive. He tried his best to force everything out. Breathe. Talk. Breathe. Talk.

“Mike… he can get aggressive, especially when drunk…”

***

Roman and Virgil stood in the kitchen, completely silent, the only noise in the room coming from the roaring steam of a kettle. Virgil, somewhat cautiously, turned to glance through the doorway at the couch, where Patton was currently sat curled into Logan’s side. He was still shivering slightly, it had been hard for him to talk about everything he’d been through, it had been hard to hear it. Guilt. Anger. Fear. Worry. Sadness. All of it set in deeply, making Virgil feel so much heavier. He couldn’t tell what emotion he was feeling, they just flowed into each other, making an awful mess. That’s what he felt. Awful.

“Fuck.” Virgil suddenly said, turning back and pushing himself up onto the counter. “Fuck Ro. Fuck.” He repeated, burying his face in his hands. “How did we not do anything?” He exclaimed, something so raw in his voice, something angry, and anxious, and guilty and frightened all at once. He desperately looked up at Roman, who could only offer him a remorseful expression.

“I don’t know, Virge.” Roman replied, his voice far too soft, his normal bravado had disappeared entirely.

“How could we let this happen? We knew something was wrong. Fuck.” Virgil looked away, at the ceiling or a cabinet, something above him so he could hide the tears. He prayed Roman hadn’t noticed the slight waver in his voice.

“It’s terrible, what Patton’s gone through. But we can’t blame ourselves.” You should really practice what you preach, Roman thought, but after all the dismay the day had brought, he just focused on reassuring his boyfriend. “Besides, my love. We cannot erase the past.” He stood directly in front of Virgil, between his legs, gently holding onto his chin and pressing their foreheads together. “No matter how much we want to. What’s done is done. The best we can do is try our best to help Patton. Okay?”

Virgil breathed out a heavy sigh, desperately trying to listen to Roman’s words. He was right, all that mattered now was Patton, yet despite this, he couldn’t help the lingering feeling in his gut. Still, he’d try and ignore it, for Patton. “Okay.” He agreed, finally bridging the gap between them and kissing Roman gently. He felt the knot in his stomach loosen a tiny bit.

Eventually the pair returned the lounge, each holding two mugs. Roman held two hot cocoas, one for him, one for Patton, complete with whipped cream and marshmallows. Virgil carried a tea for Logan and coffee for himself, medium strength and one sugar in each. The two took the mugs gratefully, Patton’s face brightening a tiny bit. He sipped it happily, savouring the sugary taste on his tongue, getting whipped cream on his nose. He giggled, wiping it off with one finger, the others thought the sound was heavenly, angelic, even.

They drank in silence for a moment before Patton coughed lightly. “Um, not that I don’t appreciate you kiddos being round, but you might have to, maybe, leave?” Patton managed to get out after stumbling over his words.

“Wait what?” Virgil sat up, clearly confused. “After all this you’re just gonna send us away and continue with him like everything’s fine?”

“Virgi-“

“No. He hurt you, Patton. You, you don’t deserve that. You can’t seriously be telling me you’re okay with staying with this guy, I thought this was you getting help?” Virgil continued, his voice a fusion of anger, disbelief and concern.

“It-it is. It’s just… telling you guys is a big thing, y’know. I-I don’t know if I could deal with anything else today.” Patton admitted, looking down. “I don’t want another fight. Not tonight.”

Silence. Virgil sighed deeply. “But, what if he, he does something again?” Virgil asked, his voice now softer, sadder, lost.

“I don’t think he will, not if he doesn’t have a reason to get mad, he tends to be more tired on Thursdays. Just goes to sleep. I think I’ll be okay.” Patton smiled gently, trying to ease his friend, but the concern never left his eyes, so he added; “If anything happens, anything I’m uncomfortable with, I promise I’ll leave. I won’t let him do anything, I’ll just leave. Now you guys know, I guess it’s actual an option just to appear on your doorstep like a lost puppy.” He laughed, no one else did.

“Of course, our doors will always be open to you. Whenever you need us.” Roman smiled kindly. “I understand that you’d rather remain for now, and as much as we are unhappy with this choice, we must respect it. I know it is difficult to get out a toxic situation, I know it may not seem worth the effort, but I promise you it is. So you must promise me, us, that you’ll let us help you, that you won’t be with him for much longer.”

Patton audibly swallowed. He appreciated the time, and his friend’s trying to help, but he still wasn’t sure if he could leave Mike. Admitting he needed help was easier as a concept than actually seeing it through. But, maybe this had to happen? Resigned, he nodded. He’d promised now.

“So…” Virgil begun, “Are we like, going? Or can we watch some Steven Universe before we go?” He allowed a smile to brighten his face, sliding off the arm of the couch and into the space next to Patton.

“Well… I guess one wouldn’t hurt” Patton conceded, desperate for some sort of normality. One episode was fine. Mike’s not even left work yet. It’s fine.

Roman went about setting up the TV, before settling back down on the floor. He sat in front of Virgil, who, almost begrudgingly, moved his legs so they were either side of his boyfriend and he could shuffle closer. Luckily, Roman was tall enough that he could see over the small, glass coffee table in front of him.

“You know, you can fit up here.” Virgil pointed out, threading his hands in Roman’s hair instinctively.

Roman smirked, tilting his head up into Virgil’s hand. “Ahh yes, but then you wouldn’t be able to play with my hair.”

Virgil grumbled some sort of insult under his breath, while Patton giggled and Logan rolled his eyes. The four watched the show in peace, except, Logan noticed something wasn’t quite right. Patton’s posture was still straight, closed off, in fact, his eyes weren’t even focused on the TV. Logan felt worry gnaw at his insides, his head suddenly emptying and leaving him completely helpless. What does he do? How does he help? Patton was clearly anxious, he was closing off, he was withdrawing. Logan wasn’t sure how best to approach the situation, but he knew Patton needed to relax, to rest. Before he could do anything, a sharp ringing made all of them flinch, Patton practically jumped out of his seat. The sharp ringing sounded again, in a rhythmic fashion. A phone. But, it wasn’t Patton’s ringtone, or any of theirs. Instantly on edge, they all look around for the source of the sound, except Patton.

“It’s just the landline, guys.” Patton notified the group, standing and walking past the couch to a table, on it was the ringing white phone.

“A landline? Who uses landline anymore?” Roman questioned.

“Patton, evidently.” Logan responded, pausing the TV. Patton shot a look at them all over his shoulder, voicelessly asking for them to be quiet.

“Bu-“ Roman tried to talk, but Virgil clapped his hand over his mouth and nodded to his friend, letting him pick up the phone.

“Hello? Oh hey baby… Oh okay, no that’s fine don’t worry. What time will you be back?… Okay, cool, will you want dinner?… Alright… okay, love you too, bye.” Patton put the phone down and turned, only to be met with three very curious faces.

“Was that Mike?” Virgil asked, hand still clasped over Roman’s mouth.

Patton nodded. “They’re making him work late tonight, he won’t be in for a while.”

“Sooo… more Steven Universe with us?” Virgil asked, smiling.

Patton felt the rotting of guilt inside him as he nodded his head, he was going behind Mike’s back with letting them stay, but he wanted them here more than anything. His emotions were at war with each other once again, it was inescapable, he always ended up with a torrent of conflicting feelings fighting each other. How did he get out of this?

After a small fight with his other half, Roman managed to peel the hand away from his face, meaning he was free to speak. “The real question here is, since when do you use a landline? Why can’t he just text you?” Roman asked, still baffled by the old technology.

Patton shrugged, returning to his seat. “My phone’s getting repaired. It’s…” Patton paused, debating on telling them what happened to his phone. They didn’t really need to know… but they’d probably figure it out anyone, and he’d promised to be honest with them. “…Mike smashed it. It doesn’t work anymore.”

There was a beat of silence. No one was entirely sure what to say. Patton felt the silence begin to press against him, it became heavy, he needed an escape. He reached over Logan and grabbed the remote, unpausing the TV and settling back down, pretending to be entirely focused on the show.

It didn’t take long for the others to drag their attention back to the flashing collection of pixels, but Logan still noticed how uncomfortable Patton was. His mind was clearly far from the bright and colourful world of Steven Universe, but he had no idea how to help, clearly Patton didn’t want to talk about it. Logan sighed, deciding on one thing that he knew reassured Patton.

Logan wrapped one arm around Patton’s shoulders and pulled him close, the smaller man instinctively froze, his overactive mind trying to work out what was happening, if it was wrong. After a long time of deciding and battling between different principles, Patton finally gave in to the comfort he’d been craving. He leaned his head on Logan’s shoulder and sighed deeply, Logan’s arm moved from Patton’s shoulder to his waist. Patton thought for a moment, then carefully took off his glasses, Logan took them from him and placed them on the arm of the couch.

Patton tried to stay awake, he really did. But he was so exhausted, and drained, and his eyelids were so heavy. His emotions had softened, he could still feel them, but he could also feel them fade, and suddenly the whole world was just Logan’s hand on his waist, and his body against his back, the soft breathing, the occasional comment from Roman or Virgil, and the murmur of Steven Universe in the background. In that moment; that was Patton’s world.

*** 

It was quite a few episodes in when all three realised Patton had fallen asleep. Roman had been the last to notice, he got quite drawn in when it came to cartoons, and couldn’t help his attention being entirely captivated by the show. However, he did also want to be a good guest, so he set about collecting in everyone’s mugs and going to wash them, that’s when he turned and saw Patton’s sleeping form, cuddled against Logan’s side.

Roman smiled at the sight, before grabbing the cups and taking them out. As he left, Virgil shuffled slightly closer to Logan, a soft smile plastered across his face as he looked at Patton. Suddenly his smile fell, his eyes became more solemn. “He’s gonna be okay, right?” Virgil asked in a small voice, he kept his eyes low, not daring to look at Logan.

Logan frowned, looking down at the man pressed against him, sleeping soundly. He smiled as Patton shifted slightly in his sleep, nuzzling closer. “Of course, Virgil.” Logan smiled reassuringly, and Virgil couldn’t help but lift his head and meet his friend’s eyes. “Patton’s strong. He can certainly be silly and…eccentric at times, but you know him as well as I do; he’s unbelievably strong. He’ll get through this.” And Logan genuinely believed that. Virgil smiled, it was still a sad smile, but it was also hopeful. Virgil believed it too. 

Roman wandered back in, taking in the sight before him; the three people he cared about most were curled close together, smiling softly, on the worn brown couch. Sunlight danced through the large glass door to their left, coating them in a gold wash, the brilliant haze moving swiftly from one face to another, seemingly entwined with the curtains. He frowned. Sunset. They’d need to leave soon. After everything it felt wrong to leave Patton. So wrong. But forcing him couldn’t be right either. Roman knew how difficult it was to talk about these things, how hard it was to escape them. He sighed heavily, eyes flicking back to the sunset, when a ghost of smile appeared.

“Hey Virge, wanna watch the sunset?” Roman asked, leaning on the doorframe. He knew how much Virgil loved sunsets, and thought he could do with relaxing a bit.

Virgil smiled, pushing himself to his feet, but before he headed to the door, he turned a spared one last glance down at Patton. The sight of the young man curled up tranquilly, blissfully unaware of the reality he was trapped in, warmed his heart, made his smile that little bit brighter, that little more genuine. He leaned down, swiftly placing a light kiss on Patton’s hair. He looked up smiling, to see Logan sharing his smile, sharing the warmth behind his eyes.

“Love you too, dork.” Virgil whispered, kissing the top of Logan’s head, then wandering out. Roman pushed himself off the doorway, smiling brightly at Virgil’s adorable shows of affection, following his boyfriend out.

***

Virgil sat on the wooden decking, legs crossed underneath him, looking up at the sky. The colours were bleeding into each other; beautiful faded pinks melting into those dazzling orange hues and warm, faded yellows. The warm colours spread across the sky, stretching over the, now pale, blue, draining it of its life until it would eventual become a dark mass. The colours were almost like parasites; corrupting the sky, painting the tips of clouds, covering everything, until they too would fade, and leave nothing but darkness. Beautiful parasites.

Virgil turned to Roman, who was sat beside him, legs hanging over the edge of the porch, eyes gazing upwards, wrapped in the glistening glow of the sun. Virgil looked at him, really looked at him, his bright green eyes that were perpetually hopeful, his swept back hazel that could never be messed up, his lazy, careless smile that Virgil adored. He had committed them to memory a thousand times before, and here he was still mesmerised by the man beside him.

Virgil pressed his hands to his face, shutting his eyes and breathing in heavily. Every time he’d try to forget, his mind went back to Patton. Patton who had protected him ever since they were kids, Patton who’d comfort him and help him and give him advise. Patton who he’d let down. He’d failed him. He let him get hurt. Virgil wasn’t sure he could forgive himself for that.

“Hey,” Roman began, turning to look at Virgil, who reluctantly pulled his face from his hands. “Do you remember our first date?” Roman asked.

Virgil laughed slightly, looking back up at the sunset, he know Roman was trying to stop his mind from racing, so he went along with it. “Yeah, I dragged you to mine and we watched Moulin Rouge together, for the first time. T-“

“-And many more viewings would follow.” Roman announced, smiling brightly at Virgil, who couldn’t help smiling too.

“Yeah they would. Then, we went to the park by my house and… watched the sunset.” Virgil attempted a chuckle. “A lot more of that followed too.”

“We evidently just like tradition.” Roman said, slinging an arm around Virgil, who happily curled into his side again.

“That was so long ago… Hey, remember that time you nearly got expelled for “improving” those homophobic books in the library?” Virgil chuckled.

“And any book that was written by an ignorant, intolerable person!” Roman corrected. “And yes, ah how my parents loved me then.”

“Uhm,” Virgil hummed in response. “They also loved you when they came downstairs one morning to find a random racoon child in their fridge, because someone hadn’t mentioned I was sleeping over.”

“Pfft. That wasn’t as bad as the time they walked in on-“

“Nonononono.” Virgil pushed himself away from Roman, waving his hands dramatically to get him to stop. “Don’t even bring that up, I haven’t even been able to look your mom in the eyes since that.”

“What do you mean? I saw you guys talking up a storm last Christmas.” Roman laughed.

“Yeah, and I looked anywhere but her eyes.”

“Could you feel the sins crawling up your back?” Virgil slapped his shoulder for that joke. “But hey, at least you don’t even have the opportunity to look my dad in the eye after that.”

Virgil sighed deeply, leaning back on his boyfriend again. “Yeah well, I’m glad.” Virgil murmured.

“Me too.” Roman sighed, running a hand through Virgil’s hair, turning his eyes back to the sunset. He’d talked to Virgil a lot about his father, maybe too much. A lot had happened with him, but that was a story for another time, he thought. Now, at least, he was in a good place, he was okay with everything, more than okay, his only worry was Patton. “Me too…”

“You good, Ro?”

“Yeah, I’m good Storm Cloud.”

***

Logan breathed in deeply, putting a leash on his emotions. He could feel the torrent raging within him again, yet somehow, looking at Patton’s sleeping form seemed to ease him entirely. Patton looked, well, like an angel. His hair was ruffled lightly, his hands balled in Logan’s shirt, his eyes lightly shut. He looked relaxed, tranquil. After everything he’d gone through, Logan thought he deserved this, this moment, at the very least.

Unfortunately, the moment didn’t last as long as Logan would have liked, and soon Patton was murmuring and sitting up. His movements were slow and lazy, in a way, he rubbed his eyes with his knuckles and reached in a random direction for his glasses. Logan smiled, placing the glasses in his outstretched hand.

Suddenly, as Patton’s vision became crystal clear, darkness surrounded his thought. He sat bolt upright, memories flooding back to him, dread crashing over him, a sickness rotting his stomach. He wanted to vomit. He could feel it. He was going to throw up. Guilt swallowed him again, he remembered; he’d told them. He’d told them everything. Everything was different now. He’d messed everything up. He’d made everything change. His breathing came in quick gulps.

I’m going to be sick. I’m going to be sick.

Disgust crawled through his veins. Hatred seeped into his brain, his heart, hatred for himself. He’d betrayed Mike. He couldn’t think. His mind was blurred.

I want to die.

He couldn’t stop it. The thought flashed before his mind, and suddenly he couldn’t escape from it. No. No he didn’t mean that. But, he didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted the feelings to stop.

His thoughts could only process one word, everything was said in those two words, and they seared into his brain.

I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

I can’t what? Leave? Think? Breathe? Live?

No. No. NO.

The word morphed; Patton saw the shape melt, saw it merge and reform.

Please. Please. Please.

Please make it stop. Please just stop.

Patton felt the sharp prick of tears against the back of his eyes. It stung and he hated it. His heart hurt and he hated it. His head was heavy and he hated it. His thoughts swarmed and he hated it. He cried and he hated it.

No. I’ve cried enough.

Patton reused. He refused to cry, or to give in, he just wanted the feelings gone. He felt an arm on his shoulder, a hand on the side of his face, wiping his tears: Logan. Logan could always help. Logan always made him feel better. He leant into the touch, desperate for that support and comfort he’d felt before. Seeking that alien security Logan provided.

Nothing.

He felt nothing but guilt and regret and frustration and-

Please. Please. Please. Please.

The words screamed at him, his head was a mess. He couldn’t think, he wasn’t thinking, he just wanted to be okay, just for a moment, and nothing was working.

He wasn’t thinking when he cupped Logan’s hand against his cheek, or when he grabbed the other’s collar pulling him close. He wasn’t thinking when he connected their lips. But he was feeling. And it felt amazing. It felt like a release, or like he was dreaming. God only knows how long he’d wanted to do that, how long he’d supressed that and hidden it, it was like he was finally getting what he wanted. But it also felt awful. He was so disgusted; at himself, his actions, and that it felt so good. That he couldn’t pull away.

Patton couldn’t explain what made him do it, he just, couldn’t, anymore. He was so tired of feeling empty.

Logan, to put it mildly, was a mess. He was so shocked, and so confused, he had no idea what to do. His made was short circuiting because; holy shit, Patton was kissing him, but also; oh shit, Patton was kissing him. Beautiful, kind loving Patton. Patton who he’s loved for years. Patton, who had a boyfriend. Patton who was hurting so much that he was drowning. Patton who is lost and confused and yeah this needs to stop.

“Patton.” Logan spoke, pulling away and resting their foreheads together. Patton squeezed his eyes shut tighter, Logan could feel him shaking, feel the hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I…” Patton began, jerking away, looking at the taller with wide, watery eyes. “I’m so sorry, Lo. I’m so sorry. Oh God, I just, I want to be alright.” Patton choked out, looking down, ashamed.

“I know, but this won’t help you. You’ll just feel worse.” Logan spoke softly, kindly, lowering his head to Patton’s eyes and cupping his face again, forcing their eyes to meet.

Patton looked at Logan for a moment before squeezing his eyes shut again, feeling warm tears crash against his soft skin. Logan reassuring brushed his thumb against Patton’s freckled cheek, wiping away the tears.

“I know.” Patton tried to whisper, but all that came out was a light gasp. He breathed in heavily, leaning his forehead against Logan’s again. Words caught on his tongue, words he needed to say, words that were so important that they drowned out the sound of the door opening.

“I love you, Lo.”

Footsteps. Not that either of them noticed.

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another important note, I was incredibly unsure of the kiss in this chapter and if I should put it in, but I’m glad I did, and that’s all thanks to @blueeyedscorpion on tumblr, who helped me and let me yeet ideas at her. She will also (even if she doesn’t know it yet) have to deal with a lot more of that in the future so,,, thank you love!
> 
> Annnd to bring it full circle, as there is an end in sight and it might take a lil bit of time before anything new is put out, you should check my friend out. She has an absolutely amazing story called The Lighthouse which is so beautifully written and I love it aND TRUST ME, READ IT!  
> Here the link: http://blueeyedscorpion.tumblr.com/post/176555528992/the-lighthouse


	14. Come What May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s New Years Eve, Patton’s family are throwing a party to celebrate, inviting round all their family and friends  
> Warnings: Panic attack, also lots of Moulin Rouge references… I’m sorry okay, I love it too much, it’s becoming an issue.

Virgil sat on the floor, curled into Roman’s side, watching Moulin Rouge as his taller boyfriend ran his hands through his hair. Behind him sat Logan and Patton on the couch, Patton had his head in the other’s lap. Logan petted him somewhat awkwardly, but was clearly endeared by the human incarnation of a kitten beside him. Virgil could hear the adults in the kitchen, he imagined his mother giggling shyly, eyes squeezed shut, glass of wine in hand. A smile crossed his face as he thought of his mom, truly happy, for the first time in too long.

The party was lively and energetic, everyone celebrating a better year to come; the Sanders always threw good parties, especially New Years. A collection of close family and friends gathered in the large, open-plan kitchen, picking at the surplus of food, chatting with everyone, attempting to dance, and essentially having a good time. Virgil knew them all, all the adults. They were like his family by this point, though a distant family, whose names you forget and aren’t entirely sure how you’re related, but still, he loved them. They treated him as family, they’d known him since he was young, and they supported him and accepted him through everything; what more could he ask for? A blood connection that meant nothing? His “real” family had shown him how easy it was to cut ties despite their similar DNA, but the Sanders had shown him compassion and love through everything. They were his family. 

And they all loved Roman, and Logan, but especially Roman, who fed off their attention. They had no issue with the fact that he and Roman were dating, Virgil (and Patton) had come out a while ago, and although they may not understand, they certainly respected them none the less. Besides, how could they miss this opportunity to tease Virgil?

“Oh, aren’t you a charmer. Virgil, you’ve got yourself a keeper.” Roman winked and Virgil groaned, covering his blushing face with his hands.

“Don’t break his heart now, will you lad? Otherwise you’ll have us to answer to.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.” Roman responded.

“And he’s got manners too!” Another voice called and Roman flashed his signature smile.

“Stop everyone! You’re feeding his ego!” Virgil complained, but there was no stopping them, even his own mother joined in.

“Roman,” She suppressed a chuckle. “What are your intentions for my son?”

Meanwhile, Logan didn’t quite know how to handle all the attention, it was like he suddenly blue screened and froze.

“Oh, my, Patton! You have a boyfriend too!” Some sort of relative announced.

“What? No, I, er, we’re-“ Logan stammered, cheeks flushing as Patton giggled, not trying to help at all.

“Bless him. Sweetie, ignore her.”

“I… um…” How did he respond to that? Was it a trap?

“Not much of a talker, eh?” An entirely new relative asked. Logan shook his head.

“See! They’re perfect! Patton can talk enough for both of them. Talk you to death that one.”

“Hey!” Patton protested, indignantly.

It was good. It had been a good night. A few adults had wondered into the living room for a quick chat, a little relax, but didn’t stay long. It wasn’t that the living room was off limits, they just knew it was the “kids room.” But, Virgil was happy like that, it meant he was free to sit and cuddle his boyfriend, and watch his favourite film with his favourite people. But then, why would this feeling not go away? Why was he so lightheaded? Why was his chest tight and his heart trying to crash through his rib cage? 

Time.

Time was the answer. The passage of time. Changes were coming. He’d lose them. Logan and Patton. He’d never have this again. They’d leave him. He’d lose Roman. He’d lose what he’d only just got. He knew it was stupid, high school relationships rarely last, he only felt this way because it was new and exciting but, there was something about Roman. He didn’t want to lose this. He thought he could stay there, in Roman’s arms, forever. This had to be something real.

Virgil turned his head into Roman’s shoulder, savouring the warmth and security it offered. The taller noticed Virgil’s change in attitude, noticed the way he was shaking slightly. Roman tugged lightly at his boyfriend’s hair, pulling him up to make eye contact.

“Are you alright Storm Cloud?” He asked smoothly. He received a curt nod in response, but the honey hazel eyes told a different story.

Roman pouted, making his disbelief obvious, and moved his hand to cup Virgil’s face, stroking his cheek lovingly. Virgil could feel it; the warmth and care, it did something to him. Almost immediately he leant forward, eyes easily sliding shut, connecting their lips in a sudden surge of motion. He couldn’t help it. He was so desperate for that soft feeling of affection, of care, love, even though he knew it wouldn’t last. Roman would get bored of him. He’d hate him. Be disgusted by him. But now… now he was offering a distraction, the very best kind. The kiss was sweet, maybe a bit too short, but Virgil could still feel that warmth spread across his body. He leant their foreheads together, squeezing his eyes shut tightly and letting out a heavy sigh.

“Virge…” Roman breathed out carefully, clearly picking up on something. Virgil let out some sort of grunt, before burying his face in Roman’s neck, desperate to preserve the silence in his head a little bit longer.

It didn’t work.

His breathing was audibly quicker. His mind was racing. He couldn’t think. Images of his friends leaving him danced across his mind, taunting him. He balled his hands into fists, grabbing a tight hold on Roman’s shirt, clinging to it, as if it would keep him here. Roman tried running his hands through Virgil’s hair again, sending a desperate look to Patton, who sat bolt upright, eyes already filled with understanding. He knelt beside Virgil and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey Virge, can you come with me to get a drink?” Virgil nodded from his hidden position. He pushed himself backwards, kissing Roman again, only this time, it was almost apologetic.

I’m sorry you’re stuck with me. I’m sorry I’m a burden. It won’t be long till you work this out.

Roman could practically sense the thoughts swimming through Virgil’s mind. He grabbed the other boy’s hands reassuringly, only letting go once he’d fully stood up and begun to follow Patton out.

However, once the pair were outside, Patton didn’t lead them to the lively kitchen, but instead the stairs. Patton plopped himself down on a step, tapping the space next to him. Virgil complied without questioning, tugging his hoody sleeves over his hands as he sat.

“You wanna talk, kiddo?”

Virgil considered it, but he wasn’t sure where to start. Besides, Patton had heard it all before. His fear for what was to come. Falling out of touch. Losing those closest to him. Just, the future in general. It had always terrified Virgil. Patton had reassured him countless times he’d never lose contact with him, that it was okay to not know what you wanted, or what the future held. But now… now it was different. Now there was more. More to lose.

“…I-I really do care about Roman, and Logan. I didn’t think I’d get to so close to them so quickly. But I am, and it’s scary Patton.” Virgil admitted, while Patton placed a firm, reassuring hand on his back.

“I know Virgil. I know it feels like you have so much more to lose now, but kiddo, how do you know you’re going to lose them? I mean, it’s a lot easier to stay in contact now. And I’m sure neither of them want to fall out of contact with you, I know I don’t. You’ll still have us, Virge. You’ll always have us.”

“But… what if…” Virgil swallowed back his fear, forcing the words out. “What about when Roman and I break up?”

“Why does it have to be ‘when?’” Patton asked, calmly.

Virgil shrugged. “Because I’m me, and he’s him. We’re gonna grow up, he’s gonna move away, and realise how much better off he is without me. How he can get anyone 10 times better than me. I have to be realistic with myself; high school relationships don’t last. He’ll move on and forget about me.” He swallowed again, taking in a gulp of air. When did it become difficult to breathe? When did the air become so thick and heavy?

“It’s alright, you’re alright Virgil. Breathe for me, okay?” Patton’s voice was calming, almost melodic, grounding.

“Okay.” Virgil replied, forcing himself to focus on timing his breaths.

“First of all , there is no such thing as better than you, you’re perfect the way you are. Don’t make me fight you.” Virgil chuckled. “Secondly, you are right, realistically, not many high school relationships last. But, in my opinion, the very nature of love isn’t realistic. It’s idealistic, it’s fantastical, it defies all logic and sense entirely. You never know where it’ll lead you Virge, just be open to it, let yourself enjoy what you have. If you and Roman break up, it’ll be hard, but probably for the best, and you can move past it. It doesn’t have to be something you regret it.”

Virgil remained silently for a while, looking at the floor, before begrudgingly nodding. He tried to fight that small, fleeting feeling of hope that fluttered inside him.

“How’re you feeling?” Patton asked.

“Still a bit…” The younger boy held his hand up flat, shaking it slightly. “…meh.”

“You wanna stay here for a bit, kiddo?”

“Would we be able to, actually get a drink. I need some water.” He laughed sheepishly.

“Sure thing.” Patton smiled, standing and heading towards the noise of the kitchen.

The kitchen was alive with laughter, music and movement. Virgil stood near the sink, brain still buzzing, cradling his cool glass of water. As he waited for Patton to return from the table stacked with food, he caught sight of something that made him light up; his mother. She was stood with Patton’s mom and another woman, her face was painted a slight red, eyes scrunched together, with a smile so wide it was dazzling. Virgil felt something inside him soften, something unwound and let him breathe. It was okay. He was okay.

Once they returned, neither Logan nor Roman said anything, much to Virgil’s relief. They simply let them settle back into their positions, and allowed silence to fall… until that very familiar scene began to play. Roman gasped and leapt to his feet, grabbing one of Virgil’s cold hands.

“Never knew, I could feel like this,” Roman sang effortlessly, his beautiful voice flowing gently. Deep, soft, fluttering. “Like I’ve never seen the sky, before. Want to vanish inside your kiss.” Roman tugged at Virgil’s hand slightly, pulling him up onto his feet. Roman continued to serenade Virgil, who’s cheeks were tinted pink and was cursing himself for not wearing foundation this one time. Roman’s voice easily jumped note to note, filling the room… then they got to the chorus.

“Come what may,

Come what may

I will love you, until my dying days.”

For some reason, after all of Virgil’s worrying, the words and Roman’s honest expression, seemed to ease him. He knew it was stupid, they were words written for a musical, a musical that had nothing to do with his life, but when Roman sang them with such sincerity, coupled with his practically sparkling eyes… Virgil was helpless to stop himself as his defences crumbled before him, and he gave in entirely, opening his mouth and singing the next verse with Roman. Virgil may have had to strain his voice slightly to hit some of the notes, but he was complimented by Roman’s deeper voice joining him, and Virgil couldn’t help that smile on his face. Sure, his voice wasn’t as smooth of as powerful as Roman’s , maybe he was messing up the occasional note, but he really didn’t care. Roman could see the slight struggles so flawlessly raised his pitch, taking Satine’s part and allowing Virgil the notes that better suited his voice. 

Virgil giggled as Roman spun him slowly, Patton was practically screeching , shaking Logan while spouting about how cute it was… Logan looked ready to stab someone. Logan wasn’t really one for romance, or musicals, Moulin Rouge was certainly not his choice of film… though he would admit his friend’s did make a cute couple, now if Patton could stop-

Virgil and Roman continued to be entirely enveloped in the music, and each other’s presence. Their hearts felt so much lighter, airier. For one moment, the weights they’d be carrying with them, expectations, worries, rules, all seemed to melt away and fade into the background, because all that mattered was each other. It’s difficult to describe the feeling you get when singing with someone, getting so lost in the sound it can feel like sharing your soul through words that were never yours. It’s like writing a story with someone who knows exactly what you want to say, when you’re at a loss for words they can articulate it with exact care and precision. It’s like being entirely entwined with a person, only for a few a minutes, but in that moment you know each other so completely.

Eventually the song came to a close, leaving Roman and Virgil starring at each other, grinning brightly, despite what was on the screen behind them.

***

All the adults had filed into the living room, ad were currently crowding and squishing themselves into any possible space. People were on arms of couches, perched on windowsills, sat on the coffee table, while some adults simply stood. All eyes were fixed on the TV as the countdown began, at the very front of everyone were the four friend’, huddled together after being displaced from their previous seats.

“10, 9, 8, 7,6-“ Everyone was cheering, waiting and counting, confetti clutched in one hand and the other around someone’s shoulders.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1-“ The noise was so loud, Virgil found himself lost in it; fireworks, music, cheering, and confetti sprinkling over the room like explosions of colour. For once, he didn’t feel anxious in the noise and the mayhem, instead, he laughed at the familiar chaos.

Roman slug an around Virgil’s waist, pulling him closer, then cupped Virgil’s cheek with his other hand. That was the moment Virgil remembered; people typically kissed on New Years. Virgil’s arms immediately found their way to rest on Roman’s shoulders, as he leaned backwards slightly. Roman smiled, bringing his arm down to support his boyfriend, dipping him, before pressing their lips together in a soft kiss.

The energy around them was… mad, family members laughing, cheering, “aww”-ing, and toasting with the glasses of champagne that were being passed around.

Once the couple had pulled away, expectant eyes turned on the other pair, waiting with joking, daring grins. Patton shrugged, before grabbing an unsuspecting Logan’s shoulders, standing on tip-toes, and pecking the other boy’s cheek. The family cheered again, with other couples turning and following suit, more cheers and laughs breaking out. Patton giggled slightly, looking down innocently… Logan essentially blue screened again. Bright red painted the taller boys cheeks, but he smiled, looking endearingly at his friend.

Suddenly, two thin arms wrapped around Virgil, arms he recognised immediately. He turned towards his mother, giving her a tight hug back, rocking from foot to foot as she began talking to him in mere whispers. “I love you too, mom.” He’d murmur into her back every once and a while.

Thomas also appeared from seemingly nowhere, engulfing Patton in a hug. Fairly soon his parents were there too, and the whole family laughed as they shared a large group hug. In the commotion and hugs, people stepped between the friends, somehow causing Roman and Logan to get pushed towards the outside of everything. It was at that moment when it dawned on them, that they were surrounded by almost complete strangers. Kind strangers. But strangers none the less. This was the first time they weren’t with their families for New Years.

And their families didn’t care.

Roman’s parents were also hosting a party; an elaborate, formal party that was more like a colourful business meeting. They say they wanted Roman there, but he knew they were dying for a chance to get rid of him, so they wouldn’t have to mention their disappointment of a son. Wouldn’t have to cast him those dirty looks, cut in his speech, won’t have to keep a sharp eye out to stop him from making a mistake. As for Logan, well, Logan had been sleeping in Patton’s room on a spare mattress for a week or two by now. He hadn’t dared go home, he was too scared of what he might find. He knew he couldn’t burden the Sanders forever, but currently, he had no other home to go to.

Something dark temporarily set in, a longing for this to be their constant reality, a longing to forget what they had to return to. They both shared a glance, knowing each other’s thoughts.

But Roman couldn’t have that. He couldn’t have his friend feeling bad on New Years Day! A smug grin slowly found it’s way to his face, an idea sparking in his head. Logan was instantly able to follow his train of thought; eyes widening and holding up his hands.

“Don’t you dare.”

Roman answered by throwing his arms around the taller’s shoulders, dragging him down and planting a slight sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“Happy New Years, Specs!” Roman beamed, still holding the squirming boy in his arms.

Logan sighed begrudgingly, giving up his fight. “Happy New Years, Roman.”


	15. The End Of All Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All hell breaks loose  
> Warnings: Violence, shouting, blood, explicit language, swearing, hints at sexual abuse, panic attacks (if there’s more please tell me, take care please guy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a fairly long note at the end which is worth the read! Also... idk why there is a perpetually an extra note at the end of each update... there's even a typo in it oh dear... just, ignore that.

Roman sighed deeply, as the last of the sun’s brilliant gold tucked itself away, hiding where his vision couldn’t reach. Instead of a majestic orange glow, dusk settled in, enclosing everything in an ashen darkness. The moon was new, a pale light vaguely illuminating the world Roman was currently trapped in. Trapped. Well, he had to admit, no matter how many worlds and stories his mind created, no matter how fantastical or mythical, he’d never wish to be anywhere but here. He couldn’t go anywhere without his friends. Maybe trapped wasn’t the right word for it, then.

The taller man stood up, offering a hand to Virgil, but before his gentlemanly offer could be accepted, they heard Logan’s voice from inside the house. It was loud, but short, as before he’d even formed a coherent word the sound was cut off by several loud thuds and clatters.

It was barely a second before Roman was inside, swiftly followed by Virgil at his heels. They both paused in the doorway, limbs unable to move for a second, eyes darting across the room. Logan was on the floor, his glasses broken and flung across the room. He was trying to sit up, groaning through gritted teeth; one side of his face was a darkening red, on the opposite side a similar colour cascaded from a cut on his temple. He grabbed onto the coffee table in order to force himself up, a dark red mark embellishing its corner. On the other side of the room, Mike stood; tall, threatening, imposing. He was holding onto Patton’s collar, roughly shoving him off his feet and against the wall.

“I KNEW IT! YOU FILTHY CHEAT! HOW COULD YOU?!” Mike screamed, something so raw and heartbroken and furious in his voice. He pulled Patton forward then slammed him against the wall. A mix between a groan an; “ah” tore itself from Patton’s throat. He was crying, every sound he made was choked out between sobs.

“HOW COULD YOU?!” Mike repeated. “WAS I NOT GOOD ENOUGH?! IS THAT IT?!” He slammed Patton into the wall again.

“I’M SORRY!” Patton screamed, eyes still closed. Pure, genuine remorse in his voice. “I’m sorry.” Now it was a whimper, barely a sound. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Patton sobbed out, his breathing becoming even more erratic.

Roman saw the intention behind Mike’s eyes, saw his elbows bend in order to smash Patton against the wall again. He acted fast, sensing Virgil step towards Logan at the same time he moved forward. Roman brought one arm over Mike’s hand, the other grabbing hold of his back, shoving the attacker backwards harshly. Mike’s grip on Patton faltered, and the smaller man fell back, sliding down the wall and covering his face in his hands, still mumbling a constant stream of “I’m sorry”s

Roman stood between Mike and the crumbled wreck of a man that was Patton. His posture was straight, unafraid of a fight. Mike laughed bitterly, stumbling backwards a bit.

“Of course, I should have known, you brought the whole gang!” He let out another bark of strained, humourless laughter. “Did you take it in turns? Is he just as frigid for you or-“

“Shut up.” Roman snarled, viciously. Hands balling into fists.

“Oh fuck off, lover boy. What’s wrong? Your own whore not good enough? You had to take mine?”

Roman’s eyes darkened, he stepped forward, fierce glare piercing into Mike’s own eyes. “Shut. Up.”

Mike seemed to realise what he’d said for a second, something softened his face; fear or regret? It was unclear, but he tried to step backwards, tripping over his own feet slightly. Then suddenly, he was embarrassed, embarrassed and angry, so he did the only thing he could. He lashed out. Stepping forward swiftly, pushing Roman so he stumbled backwards. Mike moved forward again, raising a fist, swinging it down… only to be met with nothing. His muscles lurched and clicked after hitting thin air. He was falling. A weight was around his waist with such force he was sent hurtling towards the ground: he’d been tackled. Tackled so he couldn’t hit that pathetic bastard.

Mike hit the ground heavily, the air leaving his lungs suddenly, but he refused himself the time to recover. Instead he flipped around, so he was pinning down the person who’d tacked him: Virgil. He growled lowly, looking at the young man beneath him; all neon hair, dark eyeshadow and issues. He thought of those needy, late night conversations he and Patton had; corrupting his boyfriend. Just trying to steal him. Mike hadn’t let him. He put a stop to those conversations. And then he comes home, finds him with Patton, all of them. Patton with Logan. “I love you.” Cheat.

He’d never felt rage quite like this.

Suddenly, Mike’s hands were around Virgil’s throat, squeezing, bruising, constricting. Virgil’s finger nails dug into his hand. He squeezed harder. Virgil’s mouth was open, strange gasps escaping him, he was kicking and thrashing, eyes burning and pricking with tears. He pressed harder.

Two forces were on Mike’s shoulder. Pulling him roughly, aggressively. He let go of Virgil and was flung backwards, hitting the back of his head, hard, on the door as he fell. Virgil rolled onto his side, bringing a hand up to his tortured throat as he coughed harshly, breathing coming in heavy gulps, desperate for the hot, thick air, which seemed to clog his throat further. Soon Virgil was lurching, dry heaving, tears stinging his cheeks as they fell without his consent. Roman was by his side, rubbing his back, unable to stop the flurry of concerned words leaving his mouth.

Meanwhile Logan stood tall opposite Mike, who slowly rose to his feet, rubbing the back of his head. One half of Logan’s face was still partially coated in blood, his glasses lay abandoned, his breathing laboured and his normally neat hair was a rumpled mess. He bit back a growl. Mike took a slightly unstable step towards the other man. This was his fault. Logan’s fault. If he could have just stayed away, stayed in his place.

“YOU’RE TO BLAME FOR THIS! ALL OF THIS!”

“Falsehood.” Logan stated in that irritably impassive tone. “This is a product of your abusive behaviour. Your anger. Your blinding stupidity.” Logan spat, harshly. “You had an angel. Someone so kind, so good. And what do you do? You clip his wings. You isolate him. You use him. You-“ Logan cut off his accusation, looking down and biting his tongue, not daring to say what he was thinking for the fear of the tears, pricking the back of his eyes.

“You hurt him.” Logan growled, meeting Mike’s glare.

“Hurt him?” Mike repeated, and scoffed. “What about me, huh? He hurt me!”

“HOW?!” Logan yelled.

“By being a filthy whore! A cheat!”

Logan shook his head, he remembered the feeling of Patton’s lips on his. No. Patton was none of those things, he certainly wasn’t a cheat. What he’d done was act of desperation, there was no lust or desire behind it. It wasn’t an act of passion, but a cry for help.

“You’re wrong, you know you are. You’ve not let him out the house, he’s barely had the chance to-“

“’I love you, Lo’” Mike mimicked, using air quotes, taking a step closer.

“Are you kidding?! That’s what you’re worried about?!” Logan matched, taking another step forward. “He’s put up with so much from you. So much abuse, so much pain. He stopped seeing his friend’s for you. He never told any of us, for you. Because he LOVED YOU!” Logan shouted, almost bitterly.

“WELL, I CAN SEE YOU CHANGED THAT!” Mike roared, raising his fist back harshly, preparing to slam down for-

“STOP!”

Patton

Patton stood in front of Mike, arms pushing him away from Logan. “Stop it!” He croaked, defeated. “Mike… I… I don’t love you anymore…” Patton sighed deeply, praying Mike would hear him out.

“We should have stopped a while ago, but I was delusional and thought I could help. This relationship isn’t good, for either of us. I’m sorry, but you should leave.” Patton said the words, the words he’d rehearsed in his head a thousand times over. Only now could he say them out loud. Only now. There’d been enough pain.

Mike seemed to deflate for a moment, a fragile silence forming. Stillness set in, everything froze. It was like time suddenly stopped.

“Leave MY house?” Mike snarled, shattering the silence.

“My house.” Patton corrected, his tone had changed entirely, it wasn’t soft and apologetic anymore. He locked eyes with Virgil, seeing his friend so broken, so scared, his resolve strengthened. “This is MY house, Mike. Get your things please, and get out.”

“And what are you gonna do if I d-“

“Get out before I call the police.” Patton stated, deadpan, eyes glaring into Mike, daring him to contradict. Daring him to fight.

Hurt me.

He didn’t. He glanced at Logan’s bloodied face, at Virgil’s hunched over form, at Patton’s bandaged arms. He turned to the bedroom in complete silence.

Roman followed, observing as Mike, with contained rage, began packing his stuff. Mike bent down, pulling out a large suitcase from under their bed and throwing it onto the bed. He roughly emptied drawers, pulling them out entirely and shaking them, grabbing his clothes off the floor and tossing them in the case. On more than one occasion he reached for something Roman recognised to be Patton’s. “Put it back.” Roman would growl, Mike would throw something at him. The first time it was a picture frame that was hurled at him, hitting him sharply in the shoulder. He’d groaned, but done nothing else, just watched. The second and third objects he’d managed to dodge. Mike then smashed several more photo frames, flung the pillows from the bed and left the room a mess. But that was it.

That was it.

Patton refused to move, Logan tried to speak to him. He stayed silent. Refusing to look the taller man in the eyes.

“Patton?” Virgil asked, weakly, wearily, stepping towards them both. Patton didn’t even spare him a glance.

When Mike walked out the room, he’d glared daggers at all of them, lugging his case behind him. He ventured towards the door, Roman following.

“Mike.” Patton spoke, suddenly, all eyes flicking to him. “Get help, please.”

Mike grunted, swinging open the door aggressively. He tried to slam the door shut dramatically, but Roman stopped it, pressing his hand against the wood. He held the other out, palm up, expectantly. Not needing to say anything. Mike begrudgingly handed over the keys, eyes never losing their deadly spark. And then he left. That was it.

That was it.

That. Was. It.

Patton couldn’t look up, couldn’t look at any of them, there was no relief when Mike left, he still felt awful. This was all his fault. He was bad. He hurt the people closest to him. What if Logan had hit his head too hard on that table? Or what if Roman hadn’t escaped being hit? What if they didn’t get Mike off Virgil in time? What is Mike had hurt his head severely on the door? He would never have forgiven himself. He couldn’t even forgive himself now. He’d deserved those hits. He had deserved everything. He was a cheat. A whore. He’d kissed Logan. Mike was right. Patton deserved to hurt, not the others, not Mike. This was his fault. Mike didn’t deserve to leave. Maybe, Patton could go after him, get him to-

“Patton, please. Talk to me.” Logan was in front of him, desperate, devastated. No glasses. Blood

“I love you, Lo.”

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck

Patton backed away, shaking his head, muttering curses under his breath. He started pacing, running his hands through his hair.

Cheat.

Filthy.

Whore.

He was crying, pathetic.

Worthless.

Disgusting.

Bad.

Bad.

B a d.

He couldn’t stay still, need to be moving. He couldn’t breathe, really couldn’t breathe. He was gasping for air. Gasping. Gulping. No air. He was shaking. He couldn’t see. His eyes were burning.

“Patton-“

“No no no nononono.” He cried, backing away from the voice. He couldn’t face them, he could never. They were hurt because of him. He only hurt people. It was his fault.

“I’m…” sorry. I’m bad. Go. Leave me. Please.

The words never came. Arms wrapped around him instead, delicate, protective arms. He was weak. Pathetic. He gave in.

Patton hugged back immediately, hands coming up to grab at the fabric of a shirt. He was sobbing so loud, he was screaming. He was choking, choking on tears and sound. He might die. He could die. He should die.

More arms curled around him. They were safe arms. Good arms. He was bad, but maybe if he stayed, surrounded by good, it would bleed into him, make him okay. More arms again, protecting him. Protecting him from himself.

Weak.

So weak.

He could feel his legs give way, falling, only to be held up by the arms. The arms lowered him to the floor softly, safely. Patton curled into the contact, resting his head on a shoulder, feeling warmth encircle him.

Weak.

Give up.

So he did. He let his mind drift away, let it go blank, dull the thoughts of his aching mind. He just let his friend’s hold him. Let his walls crumble. He felt everything in him drop, he felt himself cling tighter to the warmth he had found. Words were tumbling from his mouth, explanations and “I’m sorry”s and pure emotion, it was a jumbled mess of sobs and broken words, but he couldn’t stop himself. He cried and talked and cried, spilling everything. Finally letting them back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what everything has been leaving up to, finally Mike is out of Patton’s life, but it’s still hard. In a way, this is kinda the last chapter, the next is more of an epilogue. BUUUUT I have already planned a sequel/prequel of sorts, it will be in multiple parts/shorts and focus on each character in the past, and then go back to Patton in the present at the end, so we get more development and also, extension to the story. We will be finally getting some proper logicality in that, as I know the confession into… this mess, probably wasn’t the, um, fluffiest result. Anywho, thanks for reading this long ass note, I hope you like the final chapter to come, where there will be an equally, long ass note.


	16. Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end  
> Warnings: Swearing, explicit language, hint at panic attacks, trust me though it’s mainly fluff

Patton happily hummed to himself as he set down the tray of Halloween themed treats. He’d made extras specially for movie night, the rest at the café had sold out fairly quickly. There were cupcakes decorated with an immaculate swirl of pale green icing with black and orange sprinkles, soft gingerbread biscuits decorated to look like ghosts, and his personal favourite; Rice Krispie cakes in the shape of a pumpkin. He placed them across the coffee table, which had been covered by a black cover and adorned with candles, props, even some confetti in the shape of bats. Although Halloween wasn’t really Patton’s thing, he’d never miss an opportunity for special treats and a chance to decorate. In fact, it was what he loved most about owning a café; the seasonal decorations he could put up, transforming his café into another world, though he always kept the comfortable vibe. The café currently, was adorned with dark curtains, carked pumpkins, scented candles and mini cauldrons, even adding themed fairy lights. Thomas had helped Patton put everything up, even adding a couple of details, but Patton really did pour his heart out into decorating. Even better was now, Patton had the chance of decorating his own home! The prospect filled him with joy, and he’d immediately set to work, buying far more items then necessary. He only “spook-ified”(as he liked to say) his living room, adding small figurines of ghosts and bats, themed cutlery and, of course, orange fairy lights. Patton took a step back, admiring his work. He’d missed decorating so much, this had been the first opportunity he’d had in a while. Mike had never liked decorating, he’d always said-

No. Patton scolded himself. No thinking about Mike.

It had been several months since the fight… it had been hard to forgive himself for that. He still couldn’t really, he got them all hurt. Even Roman, who’d narrowly avoided getting punched, had a patch of deep purple and crimson on his shoulder from the corner of the photo frame hurled at him. Patton had been unable to stay in his own home for a while, every night he felt he could see Mike through the windows, hear him opening the door, feel him when he lay alone in bed. He slept at Logan’s for a while, who insisted Patton sleep in his bed. But, lying in the dark, alone, in an unfamiliar room, was equally as bad for Patton’s psyche. It was even more painful, even more terrifying. He wondered if that was how Logan felt when he was forced to sleep in Patton’s room when they were younger. He’d felt awful after that; Logan had been forced out of his house, Patton had run away, he was being stupid, he should just go back home and grow up, he was such a cry-baby, and attention whore, just a-

Patton took a breath, trying to banish those thoughts. He never could. They always came back. And each time they came back roaring; drilling themselves into his skull, burying themselves in the back of his mind. Nothing could flush them out, not fully, they always lingered. Whore, useless, pathetic. They haunted him, taunting him as malevolent ghosts. But, he knew how to fight them now. He had a chance, and although they never fully left him, they were weakened, bordering on manageable. It got easier every battle. It would continue to get easier. That’s what he told himself, that’s how he fought them.

It had been two nights of sleeping at Logan’s before he broke down, he’d tried to reserve tears for when he was alone in the bathroom, where he’d stifle them into a towel and hope Logan couldn’t hear. The third night, they both decided to watch a film; something happy, something forgetful. It had been so… nice. It was relaxed, and calm and okay, Patton didn’t feel like, at any moment, he’d feel hands on him, or at any moment he’d hear that familiar voice yelling over the hum of the television. He felt okay. Then the film had ended, and the threat came back. He stood, legs already weak, he looked towards Logan’s room, the room he’d stolen from him. The room he was scared of. He was alone again. He was vulnerable alone. Logan had bid him goodnight, but noticed that slight flicker in his eye, the distant look of fear in the glow of artificial light.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

Then Patton had bawled. Pathetic. He’d sobbed onto Logan. Burden. Admitted to how scared he’d felt. Baby. How alone he’d felt. Attention whore.

Logan had held him, asking nothing in return, barely glancing at his face, just held him. Patton felt all of his will drain from his body then, it felt like he was back on his couch, bearing his soul to Logan all over again. He wanted this forever, the feeling of Logan’s arms wrapped around him, holding his broken pieces together. He must have said it too, as the next thing he knew was the feeling of weightlessness, the feeling of movement. Logan had carried him to the room, dropped him softly on the bed, then lay next to him, pulling the covers over both of them and allowing Patton to curl up in his arms. Whore. In that moment Patton couldn’t care, he wouldn’t care, he was too warm, and comfy, and protected. Logan protected him, Logan meant safety.

Patton still wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own home, the others stayed round occasionally, or, on a particularly rough night, he stayed with them. But he cried a lot less now. He smiled a lot more. Maybe not as much as he used to, but it was more, and it was infectious. Patton liked smiling. He liked laughing, and joking, and living. He felt more like himself than he had in a while, the other day he’d decided he wanted to see Virgil; so he went to visit him at work. He decided he wanted make something for Logan; so he baked cookies for him and his students. He saw something he thought Roman would like; so he bought it. If he saw his friends; he could breathe. He could do all these things freely, he didn’t have to worry about offending Mike. He didn’t have to worry about Mike at all. He didn’t have to think about Mike. So he didn’t. Or, he tried not to. 

Instead of thinking, Patton moved to the kitchen, grabbing down four mugs and setting them out expectantly, waiting for his friend’s to come. He couldn’t help the slight anxiety he felt coursing through him; it was nearly Halloween, and it was Logan’s turn to pick a film. Now, Patton hated horror films, he despised them. As did Roman. And, despite what many people thought, Virgil hated them perhaps the most. All three of them, could not stand horror, they just simply couldn’t deal with the tension, the jump-scares, the gore. They were awful. They’d scream, they’d hide, on one occasion Patton had even cried- the woman murdered her kitten, poor Patton’s heart was shattered, they swore never to watch that film again, it was pretty awful anyway.

Logan, on the other hand, found their fear to be pointless. It was fake after all, and most of the time you could predict when something was about to happen. It was all cheap jump scares and shock tactics. However, Logan did enjoy watching them, especially when he found good ones. He loved the art behind a horror film, and how it could instil such fear in it’s viewers, so watching these films with his friends was excellent for research; their reactions to such predictable tricks were truly fascinating… and quite funny. 

Right at that moment, the doorbell rang, jolting Patton from his thoughts and startling him quite a bit. He breathed deeply, calming himself down, and made his way to the door. And who was waiting on the other side, but Logan. Patton smiled brightly, if a bit nervously, hugging him.

“I’m scared to ask, but what are we watching today?” Patton enquired, shutting the door behind both of them.

Logan smiled, it was a rare smile; it was bright and large and genuine and so so beautiful. He pulled his backpack- which carried all resources needed for staying the night, including his onesie- off, unzipping it quickly and, almost excitedly, pulling out the large box set, beaming.

“Alien!” Patton read, his heart leapt; one of Logan’s favourite films. It had science fiction, well-done horror, and some of the best animatronics and practical effects in cinema history, only surpassed by Jurassic Park, and The Thing (but they couldn’t watch that because… well, Patton couldn’t deal with Drag Me To Hell, Logan was not putting him through that. The infamous dog scene would almost certainly destroy him.) The entire set design was fascinating, the practical effects were phenomenal, the cast were amazing, the alien, the androids, the famous chestburster scene where the cast members reactions were entirely raw and real- what’s not to love?

Patton was relieved, he could deal with Alien; he remembered one night when Logan was still living at his house; he’d been particularly upset one night, so Patton had sacrificed his sleep and agreed to watch Alien with him. At the time, Patton was scared, he’d curled into Logan, hidden his face in his shoulder, covered his eyes with the nearest blanket. However, now he knew what happened, he could deal with it then. What makes horror the most terrifying I suspense; the unknown. Patton no longer had to worry about that. Also (spoiler) the cat survives, so there is a large silver lining to watching this film. Logan knew this, of course. He wouldn’t force Patton to sit through something that would truly terrify him, he should have known. Logan, although found humour in their fear, didn’t want anyone to be upset, Patton realised how silly he was for even worrying. Logan saved those truly, deeply, frightening and disturbing films to watch himself, he’d never put them through that… well, maybe he’d show Roman a clip or two.

“Tea, Logan?” Patton asked, already beginning to wander off to the kitchen, while the taller man placed his bag down, next to the couch.

“Yes, please.” He called as Patton clicked down the pre-prepared kettle, watching it bubble. He set about preparing the tea for both of them, Logan’s signature constellation mug sitting patiently next to Patton’s colourful one. As he went about making the tea, Logan walked in behind him, resting his hip against the counter and smiling to himself. Patton was humming. Lightly and under his breath. But that just made it even more adorable. His smile crumbled slightly at the feeling flooding his chest. They hadn’t spoken about what happened between them, there had been a silent agreement to leave it. Logan didn’t want to force him into anything, he wanted to allow Patton time to heal, and what he needed for that was a friend. So a friend Logan would be, even despite that warmth that blossomed in his chest when the other was around, the feeling that was stronger than it had ever been before. It felt so close, the possibility was tangible, it hung thick in the air around them at all times, but they could find comfort in it, safe in the knowledge they’d wait for each other. Wait like they had done back in high school, but now the ending seemed so much clearer. Patton needed space, and perhaps so did Logan, to make sure he wasn’t forcing this, just grasping hold of a childhood longing for comfort that morphed into an idea of love. He didn’t think he was, but he wanted to make sure.

“How have you been, Patton?” Logan asked softly.

“Y’know, I’m actually doing alright.” The other turned with a soft smile. “Shops been going well. Halloween’s always a lot of fun, though Thomas did want to make some spider ginger bread cookies, I was not letting that happen.” He laughed, handing Logan his tea. “What about you?”

A few hours later, the four of them were curled up together on the sofa; all wearing onesies. Roman had huddled into Virgil’s side and was currently using him as a shield, while Virgil himself was gripping tightly onto Logan’s hand and arm. Logan’s other arm was around Patton, who was comfortably nuzzled against him. Logan smiled; enjoying admiring the filmmaking, and his friend’s reactions. Virgil seemed fine, just squeezing his hand every now and again,, gripping a little harder on the soft fur of the onesie sleeve, Patton was also okay, resting comfortably. Roman alternatively, was squeaking slightly, making a consistent running commentary in a voice a bit too loud and a but too high, desperately trying to bury himself in Virgil’s shoulder, yet his genuine curiosity and interest in the film meant he couldn’t look away for long; it was a vicious cycle, and quite entertaining to watch. Any concern that Roman might be genuinely terrified and need a break was eased by the grin that would occasionally peak out in a moment of relief, or the small chuckle after a particularly loud shriek.

Patton was quite enjoying Roman’s commentary, often adding his own. The flip between exclamations and laughter was an entertaining mix; perfect for the spooky season. In fact, everything about this was perfect; the feeling of Logan’s easy breathing, the even rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of the arm around him, comforting and protecting him, that appreciative smile embellishing the taller’s features, it was the secret smile when he thought no one was looking. Perfect. Well, almost perfect. Patton loved this feeling. He loved Logan. He knew he did. Logan knew, obviously, it was hard to forget the confession, and he hadn’t pushed him to start something, that made Patton love him more. But now, he’d never been more sure that he wanted to do something, he wanted to do now. Right then and there, but he knew he couldn’t. So he’d settle with this perfection instead.

All of them were perfect; the three of them. It wasn’t just Logan who’d helped him, it was never going to be. Roman and Virgil had been amazing; they’d often pop in to see him, at the shop or at home, whenever they could. The late night conversations with Virgil had resumed, and Patton was never afraid to initiate them, to admit to the fear that was seeping back into his bones. Roman frequently went on walks with Patton, where they could talk, usually with a coffee or hot cocoa. They’d chat, then stop, and both admire the brilliance of the changing fall colours around them; the reds, oranges, yellows. It would paint the landscape, and they’d be but streaks and smudges against it, fading against the vivid colours around them. Patton loved it. He loved Roman, and Virgil too, not the same way he loved Logan, but it was just as strong.

Eventually the movie came to an end, Patton stood to flick the lights on, revelling immediate noise of chatter, there was no longer a tense silence, on the contrary there was already a small debate forming. Deciding on he wanted a drink before the next movie was played, Patton began gathering their mugs together to return to the kitchen.

“I’ll help.” Logan stated, grabbing the two closest to him, and standing. Patton paused, what had he just been telling himself? Needed to find time to ask Logan. Now was time. A good a time as any. He thought about the arm over his shoulder, with a couple words it could mean so much more, or the same amount but in a different way. He’d waited God knows how many years for this, he wasn’t sure he could wait anymore. With a deep breath, he steel himself, unable to hold back the sudden rush of nerves in case he’d misjudged this. He really hoped he hadn’t. Breathe Patton, you got this. He said to himself, before following Logan out to the kitchen.

Virgil took one look at Patton, one glance, he’d been doing similar all evening, and he knew exactly what was going to happen. His friend was easy to read, like a book, but not a book, it was easier than a book now. He’d let his walls down, at least around them, and thankfully forgotten to build them back up. Virgil thought he had been good at reading people before, but Patton was the anomaly, not any more. It was brought about too late, brought about because his lack of perception meant- stop. He couldn’t let himself think that, not tonight.

Virgil glanced over his shoulder, watching the two walk to the next room, before huddling even closer to Roman. “He’s gonna do it Ro. I can feel it.” Roman knew exactly what was going on, but made an incredulous face and shook his head. Virgil smirked. “Wanna bet on it?”

***

“Hey Lo, can I talk to you?” Patton asked. “Well, it’s not really talk, more a question, I wanted to ask. If that’s okay? Not… that wasn’t the question I was-“

“Patton.” Logan interrupted with a fond smile. “Ask whatever you want.”

“Okay well…” Patton began, wringing his hands, realising he had no idea what to say. After a moment, he begun; “Do you remember what happened… what we said before… Mike came back home?” Patton asked, almost cautiously.

“Yes. I do.” Logan replied, something indescribably flooding over him; a warmth, a wave almost like shock, a hope that this was going where he wanted it to go.

“Well, I um, I meant it. You’ve been an amazing friend to me for so long, so many years, you’ve stuck with me and helped me and cared. We’ve been through a lot together. All of us have but it’s different with us, because, I guess I don’t want you to just be a friend.” He finished, looking up and smiling softly. He’d said it, he’d extended the hand, he just hoped Logan would accept it. He took a step closer, acting on a dare, a risk.

“A-are you sure? Are you sure this is what you want.” Logan needed to make sure this was okay. That this was real. He knew he should believe it, but a part of him couldn’t, even after what they said; what if that was just desperation and confusion rolled into one? What if that’s all it was now?

What if it was wrong?

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” Another step. Another risk. “I love you Lo.” Those words echoed back to himself, but he didn’t flinch back or recoil, he meant it. He really meant it. “May I kiss you?” Another step. The final risk.

Logan couldn’t answer, instead his hands found Patton’s waist, pulling them closer and connecting their lips. Patton’s hands cupped the side of Logan’s face, lips happily accepting the kiss, both their eyes squeezed shut. For a moment he was sure his heart stopped beating, he was soaring, above it all, lost in feeling. There was no guilt, no voices, no hate, just something warm and bright surging through his chest, his heart. Just Logan’s lips on his. This is what a kiss should feel like. Patton leaned his forehead against Logan’s, smiling wide, suddenly aware of his pounding heart. Logan was smiling too, grinning. Beautiful. He couldn’t have imagined this, how it would feel, of course he’d tried but nothing came close. He suddenly missed the contact, so he pushed forward and lightly kissing Logan again. The movement was soft, not pushy or needy, yet it lit a fire, something burning deep within him. Not desire, not in that way, not right now. It was adoration. He adored this. He adored Logan.

“I love you too.” Logan smiled, after they’d rested their heads together again.

When they returned, they were both beaming. Neither could wipe the smile from their faces, not even Logan, it was stuck their. Glued. But they didn’t care. They didn’t care about anything. Just that light feeling, their own elation. Love. Of course love.

“I FUCKING TOLD YOU!” Virgil announced, hand shooting up into the air in victory. “No one gonna pick up the phone? Because I fucking called it. Looks like you owe me, Princey.” He added smugly, an almost evil twinkle in his eye.

“Let’s just get this next movie on.” Roman grumbled, a soft smile tugging at his pout.

***

Patton giggled again as Virgil cursed someone’s stupidity and Roman yelped, happy to finally have them back, to finally be able to cuddle up against them and that be entirely accepted. Cuddle up against his two best friends and his boyfriend. He was more than happy. Overjoyed, in fact. He was still fighting a smile, even as people were torn apart; he’d just hide his face in his boyfriend’s shirt. It didn’t feel new to say, but felt so different, felt right. Even the word made him smile more, perhaps that was childish, but he didn’t care. Logan loved him even though he was childish at times. His smile was turning into a grin. Logan loved him. Without the doubt or fear or uncertainty, he was sure of the fact that his love was shared.

Patton thought for a moment; happy. Was he happy? No. Not all the time. But that was normal, no one can be okay all the time. He didn’t have to hide from that. That’s what he was learning. Was he happy now? Unbelievably so. And that was okay too, that was more than okay. He didn’t have to feel guilty for feeling happy. He’d seek happiness instead. He couldn’t always reach it though, not quite, but it wasn’t so difficult to find anymore.

Happy.

That’s what he was now, right this moment. He was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope this lived up to your expectations and delivered, I’m sorry this chapter took so long but hey! Logicality! Finally! 
> 
> I really wasn’t sure if I was gonna include it but, I thought we needed something sweet, after all Patton has been through enough. 
> 
> I cannot thank everyone enough for sticking with this, it’s been absolutely amazing and I’m genuinely sad this is over (well not quite) but it feels like this became a large part of my life, I was often thinking of what I was going to write
> 
> Saying that I have already finished writing some parts of the sequel/prequel in no particular order, so although that might be a while, it is coming. I really wanted to flesh out these characters more because I have so many little ideas about their lives and couldn’t include it in here. I’ll still be using the same taglist so lemme know if you’d like to be removed. 
> 
> Seriously though, thank you so much anyone who read this. I really hope you liked it, and I’ll see you soon

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I originally posted this on my tumblr not now I'm attempting to post it on here as well, soooo... hope you enjoy!


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